


Fuck your pride! Fuck yer prejudice!

by MindBoggling



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Malcola, Pride and Prejudice References, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 40,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindBoggling/pseuds/MindBoggling
Summary: This is an alternate Austen-inspired universe with a very competent Nicola, fluff and a little smut.Sorry. This is all about literature. Serioufuckingly.
Relationships: James Murray/Nicola Murray, Nicola Murray/Malcolm Tucker
Comments: 77
Kudos: 17





	1. Cabinet Reshuffle

**Author's Note:**

> I so need to get time off work to write all the TTOI smut that's in my head.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a politician in charge of a govermental department must be in want of an enforcer.

However little known the feelings or views of such a politician may be on her first entering a ministry, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding employees, that she is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their advisors.

“My dear Glenn,” said Terri “have you heard there will be a cabinet reshuffle?”  
Glenn replied that he had not.  
“But there will be,” returned she; “for Ollie has just been here, and he told me all about it.”  
Glenn made no answer.  
“Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried Terri impatiently.  
“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”  
This was invitation enough.

“Why, my dear, you must know, Ollie says that DoSAC is taken by a backbencher from middle England; that Malcolm talked her into it, that she is to arrive soon, and all advisors' contracts are up to revision.”

“What's her name?”

“Nicola Murray.”

“Family?”

“Oh! Four children to be sure! Not much political experience though. What a fine thing for our spads!”

Glenn Cullen was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of several years working together had been insufficient to make Terri understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. The business of her life was to leave the office by 5.30 pm; its solace was wine tasting and the annual production of Joseph.


	2. Sam! Prepare my horse!

Sam Cassidy was good-looking and professional; she had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. She was the PA to Malcolm Tucker, who always drew the attention of any room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand swear words a year.

The advisors pronounced him to be a scary figure of a man, the civil servants declared he was pure evil, and he was looked at with great fear for about half the meetings, and his manners gave a disgust which undermined any popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large power at Number Ten could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be the boss of sweet Sam.

Sam Cassidy had soon made herself acquainted with all the principal staff; she was soft mannered and discrete. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between her and Malcolm Tucker!

Mr Tucker had insulted everyone within five minutes and made Nicola Murray's first day very unpleasant. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Ollie, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by Malcolm having slighted one his favourite films.

Nicola Murray had been obliged, by the scarcity of acceptable chairs, to stand for her first bollocking; and during part of that time, Mr. Tucker had been standing near enough for her to feel his bodily presence.

Sam Cassidy was pulling him away and smiled apologetically. “Come, Malcolm,” said she, “I must have you go. You have to see Dan Miller in five minutes”. - “I certainly shall not. You know how I detest him. He's as useless as a marzin dildo! I don‘t enjoy bollocking people who show no sign of human life. Actually there is not one person in government whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with, they are all colossal fuckwits.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Sam “for a Scottish republic! Upon my honour, I never met so many stupid people in my life as I have working at Number 10; and there are several of them who seem uncommonly foolish.” - “You are dealing with the silliest man of the lot,” said Malcolm, smiling amiably at Sam.

“Oh! But you know, Nicola does not seem too bad, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me make an appointment with you for a longer talk.”

“Who do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment through the glas walls at Nicola sitting in her office, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: “She is tolerable, but not important enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to ministers who are in office only due to my lack of other options. We had better return to Number Ten, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Sam and Malcolm walked off; and Nicola who had overheard this conversation remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her staff; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.


	3. Malcolm was continually giving offense.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm was continually giving offense.
> 
> HE FUCKING CERTAINLY DID NOT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are familiar with Jane Austen's novel it might be confusing how some characters of TTOI somehow play multiple PP characters. Consider it amateur theatre with limited players.

When Nicola and Ollie were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Samantha before, expressed to him just how very much she liked her.

“She is just what any civil servant ought to be,” said she, “sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!”

“She is also handsome,” replied Ollie, “which anyone working for Malcolm should be. It helps working at Number Ten. You know, she actually made a pass on me once”

“Did she? I don't see that for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take me surprise, and you never. What could be more natural than her pulling your leg? She could not help seeing that you were about five times as scared of Malcolm as every other person the room. No blame for that. Well, she certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like her. You probably have liked many a stupider person.”

“Minister!”

“Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to creep up on people in general. You never know your limit. All the world are to be exploited in your eyes. I never heard you speak well of a human being in your life.”

“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think.”

“I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your intelligence, to be so honestly blind to the merits of others!"

Ollie kept blabbering on and Nicola listened in silence, but was not convinced; his behaviour at the meeting had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her advisors, and with a judgement too unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them.

They were probably reasonably skilled, not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and conceited. They were rather mediocre looking, had been educated in Oxbridge, had a decent income, were in the habit of spending more time gossiping than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others.

Now Sam Cassidy was outstanding in these surroundings. Between her and Malcolm Tucker was a very firm understanding, in spite of great opposition of character. Sam was endeared to Malcolm by her loyalty, discretion, and the ductility of her temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Malcolm's regard, Sam had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Tucker was the superior. Sam Cassidy was by no means deficient, but Malcolm Tucker was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners were not inviting. Sam was sure of being liked wherever she appeared, Malcolm was continually giving offense.


	4. Do you not do Karaoke, Malcolm?

Occupied in observing the functioning of work in goverment and in the cabinet in particular, Nicola was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of the PM's policy enforcer.

Malcolm had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had claimed her flowery dress gave him tinnitus; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clearin front of all of DoSAC that she hardly had a good feature in her face or an intelligent thought in her head, than he began to find her face was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes and her character endeared to him by the way she truly cared for making people's lives better.

To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be curvy in all the right places and pleasing and having a truly remarkable effect on his body; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the professional politicians, he was caught by their easy playfulness.

Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her smart enough to reckon with.

He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at a party conference in Eastbourne.

“What does Malcolm mean,” said she to Glenn, “by lurking around us?”

“That is a question which Malcolm only can answer.”

“But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very critical eye and a foul mouth, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon panic of him.”

On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, unlikely as that seemed, Glenn defied the Secretary of State to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking Nicola to do it, she turned to him and said:

“Did you not think, Malcolm, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I gave a speech about the upcoming policy launch of my department?”

“With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a Minister energetic.”

* * *

Malcolm stood in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his Blackberry to perceive that Julius Nicholson was his neighbour, till Julius thus began:

“What a charming evening this is after a long conference day, Malcolm! There is nothing like Karaoke after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society.”

“Course you would, Baldy; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every chav can croak.”

Julius only smiled. “Jamie performed delightfully on some of the lesser known punk songs,” he continued after a pause, “and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Malcolm.”

“Sure, love to perform some Oasis with Steve fucking Fleming.”

“So why not join in Malcolm?”

“I'd rather be fucked to shreds by Philip Schoefield's army of lobsters right before they feed on my rotting carcass.”

“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the party?”

“It is a compliment which I never pay to any soddin bastard if I can avoid it. Now will you be as kind as to fuck off”

As Nicola was at that instant moving towards them, Julius was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her:

“My dear Nicola, why are you not singing? Malcolm, you must allow me to present this minister to you as a very desirable duet partner. You cannot refuse to sing, I am sure when so much talent is before you.” And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Malcolm who, though extremely surprised, was not entirely fucking unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Julius:

“Indeed, Julius, I have not the least intention of singing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

Malcolm, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of her hand for a duet, but in vain. Nicola was determined; nor did Julius at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

“You excel so much at Karaoke, Nicola, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of listening you; and though this Scotsman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one song.”

“Malcom is all politeness,” said Nicola, smiling sarcastically.

“He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Nicola, we cannot wonder at his complaisance — for who would object to you as their partner?”

"You would to have ask my husband James about that".

Nicola looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with Malcolm, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Dan Miller:

“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”

“I should imagine not.”

“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which the nice arse of a pretty woman can bestow.”

Dan Miller immediately fixed his cold cyber prick eyes on his face, and desired he would tell him what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Malcolm replied with great intrepidity: “Nicola Murray.”

“Nicola Murray!” repeated Dan Miller “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to see you call the election?”

“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A politician's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from MP to Minister of Cabinet, from Minister to PM, in a moment. I knew you would be shitting your pants, Danny boy.”


	5. Yoga is frowned upon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slimey Dan Miller starts to cabal. Stupid prick.

At ten pm most people had retired to their rooms. There were only a handful of less drunk party members left at the bar where Malcolm was nursing his orange juice.

Dan Miller who had not had that much to drink, stupid prick, began abusing Nicola as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of clumsiness and anxiousness; she had no conversation, no style, no beauty.

Some other party blandee added: “She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being excellent at yoga. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”

“She did, indeed, Paul. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical so called excercise! Why must she be scampering about in the morning before breakfast doing excercise? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!”

“Yes, and her outfit; I hope you saw her outfit, all fair trade, I am absolutely certain; and in ridiculous colours.”

“Your picture may be very exact, Dan,” said Clare Ballentine; “but this was all lost upon me. I thought Nicola looked remarkably well when she came into the breakfast room this morning. Her outfit entirely escaped my notice.”

“You observed it, Malcolm, I am sure,” said Dan Miller; “and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see any Minister make such an exhibition.”

“For fuck‘s sake, no.”

“To do the downward facing duck, or dog, or whatever it is, in that godawful outfit, and alone, quite alone, for all those loitering photographers to capture! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most back bencher indifference to decorum.”

“It shows an interest in a healthy lifestyle that is very pleasing,” said Clare.

“I am afraid, Malcolm” observed Dan Miller in a stage whisper, „that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine arse.” “Not at all,” he replied; “it was emphasised by the outfit.”


	6. All politicians accomplished?! WTF!

A little later Nicola re-entered the room to settle her bill. She found the whole party at the bar, and was half heartedly invited to join them; but suspecting them be quite drunk already she declined it, said she would retreat to her room to prepare tomorrow's speech. Waiting for the barman to return, Nicola stood within earshot of the conversation.

“It is amazing to me,” said Sam, “how politicians can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.” - “Politicians accomplished! My dear Sam, what do you mean?” cried Malcolm.

“Well, most of them, I think. They write speeches, draft policies, and meet their constituents. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a politician spoken of for the first time, without being informed that they were very accomplished.”

“I think your have drunk too much, Sam. The word is applied to many a politician who deserves it not otherwise than by reading a speech someone else has written or fussing with constituents. I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of politicians in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Then,” observed Nicola, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished politician.” - “Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried Dan Miller, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A politician must have a thorough knowledge of the economy, politics, sociology, conversation, and media appearances, to deserve the word; and besides all this, they must possess a certain something in their air and manner of walking, the tone of their voice, their outfits and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this they must possess,” added Malcolm, “and to all this they must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of their mind by letting themselves being guided by the director of communications.”

“I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished politicians. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

“Are you so severe upon your own profession as to doubt the possibility of all this?”

“I never saw such a politician. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united in any human being.”

„You know, Peter Mannion even wrote sonnets to his extramarital love interest and send them by e-mail to the lady in question“ said Sam pensively.

“And it ended his affair, when the Sun published them” said Nicola impatiently. “There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way.”

“I have been told to consider love sonnets as the food of love,” said Sam.

“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of affair, I am convinced that one sonnet published will starve it entirely away.”

Malcolm only smiled slyly; and the general pause which ensued made Nicola tremble lest she should be exposing herself some time.


	7. Seriously, is Malcolm well endowed? How does Ollie know?

The next day, at lunch break, Malcolm was drafting a speech. Ben Swain, seated near him, was watching the progress of his draft and repeatedly calling off his attention by offering him chocolate bars. “You write uncommonly fast.”- “You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.” - “How many speeches you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! How odious I should think them!” - “It is fortunate, then, that they fall within my purview instead of yours.”

Nicola couldn't help giggling.

“Are you sure you don‘t want a mars bar? I‘ll even ask the kitchen to deep fry it for you.“ Malcolm ignored him. “How can you go all day on coffee and satsumas?” He was silent for just one blissful second. „You do always write such witty and charming speeches, Malcolm.”- “They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to determine.”

“Don‘t try to compliment Malcolm, Ben,” cried Ollie, “because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four letters. Do not you, Malcolm?” - “My style of writing is like my sex life, you twat: very different from yours.”

“Oh!” cried Glenn, who clearly enjoyed the metaphor, “Ollie writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half and does shitty jokes at the rest.” - “Well old man, I am still at the prime of my youth so my political ideas as my sexual energy flow so richly and rapidly and are in so much demand that I have never enough time to fully express them".

“Nothing sucks more” said Malcolm, “than an exaggerated opinion of oneself. It is often only mediocrity, lack of imagination, and sometimes an indirect boast.” - “And which of those do you accuse me of?” cried Ollie.

“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing and in sex, because you consider them as proceeding from a youthful energy and carelessness of consequences, which you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Glenn last night that you could give that tory bitch of yours an orgasm in under five minutes, you meant it to be a compliment to yourself — and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone?”

“Nay,” cried Ollie, “this is too much, to remember all the foolish things that were said drunk. And yet, upon my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not talk about it merely to show off before the ladies.”

“I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would truly satisfy any woman with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know.”

“You have only proved by this agurment,” grinned Nicola, “that you like to show off as much as Ollie.” - “You expect me to account for my sexual behaviour, Mrs. Murray, which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, that Mr. Reeder desired his talents to please a woman speedily to be discussed, whereas I don‘t“.

“You appear to me, Mr. Tucker, to allow nothing for the influence of the woman in question. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Ollie. Help me god, we will better not even think about that any further before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between man and woman, where one of them is desired by the other not to delay a very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”

“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?”

“By all means,” cried Ollie; “let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative length and girth; for that will have more weight in the argument, Nicola, than you may be aware of. I assure you, that if Malcolm were not so well endowed, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful subject than Malcom, on particular to be discussed in bed with certain female advisors.”

Malcolm smiled; but Nicola thought she could perceive that he was rather embarrassed, and therefore silenced Ollie before she left the group. She could not help observing, talking to some people in the room, how frequently Malcolm‘s eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.

Dan Miller saw, or suspected enough to be jealous. He was quite as much engaged in watching Malcolm‘s conversations as in his own; and he was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at him. He could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered his question, and got on.


	8. You can't laugh at the Dark Lord, can you?

“I should like party conferences infinitely better,” Ben Swain stated in the afternoon, “if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process. It would surely be much more entertaining if dancing instead of conversation were made the order of the day.”

“Much more entertaining, Ben, but with this lot it would not look so much like a ball but like a horde of lemmings fucking.” said Malcolm with angry eyebrows.

“Oh! How offensive!” cried Ben Swain. “I never heard anything so abominable. We should punish you for such a speech.” - “Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Nicola. “We tease him—laugh at him. You have known him for so long you must know how it is to be done.”

“ No, no; I feel he may defy us there, you cannot beat Malcolm at ridicule. You can't laugh at the Dark Lord. Mr. Tucker may fuck himself.”

“Malcolm not to be laughed at!” cried Nicola. “That is an uncommon advantage, and it would be a great loss to _me_ to pass that opprtunity. I dearly love a laugh.”

“Ben,” said Malcolm with a stern gaze, “has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”

“Certainly,” replied Nicola—“let's assume just for the benefit of the doubt you were all wise and good. Still, follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies _do_ divert me and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I am sure, are precisely what you are without.”

“It has been the bane of my life to clear up the fuck ups of other people so I tend to avoid those fucking weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”

“Such as vanity and pride.”

“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”

Nicola smirked. “Now I am perfectly convinced that the great Malcolm Tucker has no defect.”

“Fuck off. I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the party. I cannot forget fucking follies and vices of others as soon as I ought, nor their offenses against the party. My feelings are not fucked about. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”

“You have chosen your fault well. I really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me.”

“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best intentions can overcome.”

“And _your_ defect is to hate everybody. And you have no fucking intention to overcome it.”

“And yours,” he replied with a sardonic smile, “is willfully to misunderstand my intentions.”

“Come over to the bar, Nicola,” cried Ollie, tired of a conversation in which he had no share. “The Karaoke is open tonight”

Malcolm, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Nicola too much attention all over his body.

* * *

  
At the end of the conference Nicola was positively resolved to go home —nor did she much expect it would be asked, as only the party grandees were staying the night.

To Malcolm it was fucking welcome intelligence— Nicola had been at Eastbourne long enough. She attracted him more than he liked—and Slimy Dan Miller was more teasing than usual. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should _now_ escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he had scarcely spoken ten words to her through the rest of the day, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his notes, and would not even look at her.

  
  



	9. The Candy Man can

Some weeks later, Nicola Murray had to accept Ben Swain as a junior minister, as the Prime Minister was his patron. Ben was very eloquent in sucking Tom's dick. The subject elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect he protested that “he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank — such affability and condescension", as he had himself experienced from Tom Davis. He had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the policies which Ben had already had the honour of suggesting. Tom had also asked him twice to dine at Chequers, and had sent for him only the Sunday before, for his famous brunch. Tom was reckoned stupid by many people he knew, but _he_ had never seen anything but affability in him. Tom had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion.

Ben Swain was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. His family had brought him up originally with great humility of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living as an MP, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Tom before he had become the PM; and the respect which he felt for his rank, and his veneration for Tom as his patron, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a politician, and his right to a place in government made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility. Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to secure a ministerial office. So Nicola had to grin and ignore him as best as she could.

* * *

One day the team's attention was caught by a visitor, whom neither at DoSAC had ever seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance. It was Nicola‘s husband James, who had returned from a business trip the day before, and he was happy to take his wife out for lunch. This was exactly as it should be; for the man wanted only a flower bouquet to make him a completely charming husband. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.

The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation — a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole of Nicola‘s staff were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of swear words drew their notice, and Malcolm Tucker was seen approaching through the building, followed by Jamie McDonald. On distinguishing Nicola and Ben of the group, the two came directly towards them, and began the usual bollocking. Jamie was the principal spokesman, and Ben Swaint the principal object.

Malcolm was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Nicola, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Nicola happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. James, after a few moments, put his arm around Nicola‘s waist. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.


	10. Just Lunch

When they had first met, James was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, and Nicola the happy woman by whom he finally settled, the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker. All those years later, she needed a little reminder of that sometimes, and today James seemed intend to remind her. He had booked a table in a busy restaurant, where staff were too busy to pay attention to guests after they had been served. As they sat down in a discrete booth, James was at leisure to talk to Nicola, and she was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told—the history of his acquaintance with Malcolm. She dared not even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. James began the subject himself. He asked in a hesitating manner how long she had been working with Malcolm.

“Since I started at DoSAC,” said Nicola; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, “He is a powerful man within the party.”

“Yes,” replied James; “and he has alway been very well connected. You may well be surprised, Nicola, that I have met him before, after seeing the very cold manner of our meeting just now. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Tucker?”

“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Nicola very warmly. “I have spent lots of meetings with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”

“I have no right to give _my_ opinion,” said James, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for _me_ to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish—and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else.”

“Upon my word, I say no more _here_ than I might say at DoSAC, except in the presence of that little psycho Jamie McDonald. Malcolm is not at all liked in government. Everybody is disgusted with his manners. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”

“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said James, after a short interruption by their lunch being served, “the world is blinded by his power and consequence, or frightened by his swearing and imposing manners.”

“I should take him, even on _my_ slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man. I hope our life will not be affected by his working close to me?”

“Oh! no—it is not for _me_ to be driven away by Malcolm. I have no reason for avoiding _him_ but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes of my beloved wife.” James kissed Nicola‘s neck while putting his hand on her thigh and stroking it.

“You know it was the prospect of a constant job, and a good job,” he continued, “which was my chief inducement to work with Albany. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable company, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their compensation scheme and incentives. You know I enjoy status, Nicky. My spirits will not bear solitude. I _must_ have employment and a place in society. But I had planned my life in a different manner. Long before we met, about twenty years ago, I founded a company that _ought_ to have been providing affordable housing —I was brought up for self employment, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes. I had made many contacts to secure political support for my scheme. In fact the then prime minister intended to make this his political legacy. He meant to provide for the poor and thought he had done it; but when he suddenly died, the whole plan was abandoned.”

“Good heavens!” cried Nicola; “but how could _that_ be? How could his wish be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”

“The contracts had not yet been signed. There was just such an informality in the terms of the agreement as to give me no hope from law. The party did not doubt the intention, but Mr. Tucker chose to doubt it — or to treat it as a scheme to enrich myself at the expense of the state, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by corruption, extravagance, imprudence. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion _of_ him, and _to_ him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”

“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

“Some time or other he _will_ be—but it shall not be by _me_. As long as you are working with him I can never defy or expose _him_.”

Nicola honoured him for such feelings, and kissed him passionately while lightly touching his upper thigh. She thought him handsomer than ever. James moved his hands up slowly up her skirt.

“But what,” said she, gasping, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”

“A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late PM liked me less, Malcolm might have borne with me better. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort of preference which was often given me.”

“I had not thought Malcolm so bad as this—though I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this.”

James kissed her neck while his hand gently moved to pull her knickers aside. He teasingly put his palm on her mound slowly stroking it. Nicola inhaled sharply and felt her arousal increasing as his finger entered her folds. He had alway been amazing at finger fucking her but doing this in public was shocking and scandalous and ever so fucking hot.

After a few minutes of quiet moans and gasps at his cheekiness, she continued with a ragged voice “I _do_ remember his boasting one day, at Eastbourne, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful.”

“I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied James; “ _I_ can hardly be just to him. But I want to be just to you“. His middle finger teased her aching clit now, tapping it lightly before James added another finger and started twitching it rhythmically. Nicola was melting into his touch, deep in pleasure, and exclaimed, “Oh James, we can‘t do this here, I need you to stop, I could come right here and now“.

James gave her a filthy grin. „Well Nicky, you just have to be very quiet then while I attend my connubialities, right?“ He increased the pressure on her clit now, he knew how to get her off. His expert touch and the indecency of the situation, the thought of being fingered by him in public made her pleasure almost unbearable… and when James whispered „You do like me being just to you, Mrs. Murray.. don‘t you…“ she bit her lower lip to prevent herself from moaning loudly as she came.


	11. Unaccommodating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well there had to be a reason why Nicola doesn't leave James, tright?

While Nicola came down, James slowly and lasciviously licked his fingers and continued his story.

“Almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with anger than with any other feeling.”

“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

“Yes. It has often led him to do excellent work for the party, to give his time freely, to display his charm and wit, to assist the ministers, and relieve the MPs. Party pride, and _personal_ pride — for he is very proud of his self made background — have done this. Not to disgrace the government, not to lose an election is a powerful motive. He has also _socialist_ pride, which, with _some_ affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his PA, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of employers.”

After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Nicola could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying: “I am astonished at his intimacy with his PA! How can Samantha Cassidy, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be working with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know her?”

“Not at all.”

“She is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming woman. She cannot know what Malcolm is.”

“Probably not; but Mr. Tucker can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in mind, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with those he regards his equals he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable.”

Nicola checked her watch and regrettfully found she had to be back at DoSAC soon. While waiting for the bill, James asked Nicola in a low voice whether she was very intimately acquainted with Dan Miller.

“Tom seems to be fond of him. I hardly know how Dan was first introduced to his notice, but he certainly has not known him long.”

“You know of course that they are cousins.”

“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Dan Miller‘s connections. I never heard of his existence till I became Secretary of State.”

“He will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that the two of them will unite in leadership as PM and chancellor.”

This information made Nicola smile, as she thought of poor Ben Swain. Vain indeed must be all his attentions, vain and useless his praise of himself, if that were the case.

“Tom” said she, “speaks highly of Dan Miller; but from some particulars I suspect he is an arrogant, conceited prick.”

“I believe him to be that in a great degree,” replied James; “I have not seen him for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked him, and that his manners were dictatorial and insolent. He has the reputation of being remarkably clever; but I rather believe he derives part of his abilities from his connections and fortune, part from his arrogant manner, and the rest from the connection with Tom.”

Nicola allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and they continued talking together as he walked her back to DoSAC. Nicola got back to her office with her head full of him. She could think of nothing but of her husband, and of what he had told her, and how hot it had been to have him touch her in such a long time.

* * *

Nicola related to Clare Ballentine the next day at parliament what had passed between James and herself. Well, only the content of the actual conversation, that is.

Clare listened with astonishment and concern; she knew not how to believe that even Malcolm could be so unworthy, yet it was not in her nature to question the veracity of a Nicola‘s husband. The possibility of his having endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all her tender feelings; and nothing remained therefore to be done, but to throw into the account the possibility of an accident or mistake.

“They might both,” said she, “been deceived in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side. My dearest Nicola, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Malcolm, to be treating a policy so beneficial to the party in such a manner, one whom the PM had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of integrity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can he be so bad to the core? Oh! no.”

“I cannot believe my husband should invent such a history of himself as he gave me yesterday; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Malcolm contradict it. Besides, I know my husband well and there was truth in his looks.”

“It is difficult indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to think.”

“I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.”

The two ladies were summoned to another ballot. After the session closed, they received a personal invitation for the long-expected annual party at Number Ten, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. Clare was particularly flattered by receiving a written invitation from Tom himself, instead of the usual e-mail, and Nicola thought with pleasure of having James accompany her, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Malcolm’s look and behaviour.

Nicola‘s spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she did not often speak unnecessarily to Dan Miller, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Tom’s invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever. “I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair female colleagues in the course of the evening”.

Ugh.


	12. The party

Till Nicola arrived at Number Ten on Tuesday night and looked in vain for James among the cluster of men in black zie, no doubt of his being present there as agreed upon had ever occurred to her. She had dressed with more than usual care, wearing an elegant dress that showed some cleavage, and prepared in the highest spirits. But in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion that he might have been disinvited purposely for Malcolm‘s pleasure and though this was not the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by a text from James saying that he had been obliged to meet a client on business. Fucking Dan Miller saw her read this and said to her with a significant smile, “I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”

This made her suspect that Malcolm was not less answerable for James‘s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which Malcolm afterwards approached to make. Attendance, forbearance, patience with Malcolm, was injury to James. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount.

But Nicola was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, she indulged in some Moquitos with Clare Ballentine and even joined the dance floor with sweaty octopus Ben Swain.

When those dances were over, she returned to Clare, and was in conversation with her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Malcolm who took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that she accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind; Clare tried to console her: “I dare say you will find him a good dancer.” - “Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man a good dancer whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”

When Malcolm returned to claim her hand, she was amazed at the fact that she seemed to be the first woman being asked to dance with Malcolm Tucker, and reading in everybody's looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They danced for some time without speaking a word; and she was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to have a civil conversation, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with: “It is _your_ turn to say something now, Malcolm. _I_ talked about the dance, and _you_ ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the party, or the music.”

He frowned, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said. “Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private events are much pleasanter than public ones. But _now_ we may be silent.”

“Do you talk by rule, woman, while you are dancing?” - “Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent; but if you can't multi task, we can skip conversation.”

“Are you consulting your own fuckin‘ limits, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”

“Both,” replied Nicola archly; “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room"

“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” said he. “But _you_ probably think it a fucking accurate description of mine.”

They were again silent till they had gone down the dance, when he asked her if she very often had lunch outside the office. She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “When you came to DoSAC there the other day, I was just going out to lunch with my husband.”

The effect was immediate. A shade of anger overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Nicola, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Malcolm spoke, and in a constrained manner said, “Mr. Murray is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure the loyalty of his wife - whether he may be equally capable of _retaining_ it, is less certain.”

“He has been so unlucky as to lose your good opinion,” replied Nicola with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”

Malcolm made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At that moment, Cliff Lawton appeared close to them, meaning to pass through to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Malcolm he bowed slighlty and said „Please let me not interrupt you, Malcolm. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”

Recovering himself from that allusion, Malcolm turned to his partner, and said, “Cliff’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”

“I do not think we were speaking at all. Cliff could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. What we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”

“Read any decent books?” said he, smiling.

“Oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.”

“We might compare our different opinions.”

“No -I cannot talk of books at a party; my head is always full of something else.”

“Ye have difficult to focus, eh?” said he, with a look of doubt.

“Yes, always,” she replied, for her thoughts had wandered for a moment to how handsome he looked in black tie. "I remember hearing you once say, Malcolm, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being created?_ ”

“Aye,” said he, with a firm voice.

“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”

“Naw.”

“It is particularly important then to be secure of judging properly at first.”

“What ye're getting at Nic'la?”

“Merely to the illustration of _your_ character,” said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”

“And what's yer fucking conclusion?”

“I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”

“I can readily believe that the twats talk shit about me; but I could wish, Nicola, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either of us.”

After this they parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Malcolm’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against a nutter who accidentally stepped on his foot.

* * *

When Nicola returned to Clare, she asked with a smile „Have you learnt anything about Malcolm by talking to Jamie? Or were you too pleasantly engaged snogging him in which case you may be sure of my pardon?”

“No,” replied Clare with a little blush, “I have not forgotten; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Jamie does not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Malcolm; but he will vouch for the good character, the integrity, and fucking honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that James has deserved all he has received; and I am sorry to say by his account James is by no means a respectable man.”

“But Jamie didn‘t know my husband then, right?”

“No; he never saw him till the other morning at DoSAC.”

“This account then is what he has received from Malcolm. I am satisfied. But what does he say of the housing scheme?”

“He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard them from Malcolm more than once, but he believes that it was never formally agreed upon.”

“I wouldn‘t dare to have a doubt of Jamie’s sincerity,” said Nicola warmly; “but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Jamie’s heated defense of his friend must be a very powerful one, I dare say; but since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I did before.”

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, James voluntarily acknowledged that the necessity of his absence _had_ been self-imposed. “I found as the time drew near that I had better not meet Malcolm; that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to you more than myself.” Nicola highly approved his ministrations, and if it hadn't been for the children, she would have gladly shagged him senseless right on the kitchen table.


	13. So you want me to call it 'The Scottish Play'

A couple of weeks later, when Nicola came to DoSAC in the morning, gleeful Ollie informed her that the PM had send both Malcolm and Jamie up north to help the Scottish Party kick off their election campaign. While the whole of Whitehall had the champagne corks popping, Nicola met Clare Ballentine after work for a drink and found her to be quite gloomy. She had heard that Jamie had been offered to lead the campaign and therefore might not return to London any time soon.

„The fucker didn't even tell me in person. He just texted me! Trying to be funny too! ‚I sincerely hope your time in Westminster may abound in the gaieties which politics generally bring, and that the available cocks will be so numerous and firm as to prevent your feeling the loss of the one of whom I shall deprive you.‘ Bastard.”

"I second that!" said Nicola.

“It is evident by this,” added Clare, “that he comes back no more this winter.”

“It is only evident that Malcolm does not mean that he _should_.”

“Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master.“

„Malcolm could have manipulated him into that. You must decide for yourself, and if you find that the misery of disobliging some evil spin doctor outweighs the joy of fucking Jamie, I advise you by all means to forget about Jamie.”

“How can you talk so?” said Clare, faintly smiling. “Even if I should be fucked hard by Malcolm‘s disapprobation, I would not hesitate to be fucked hard by Jamie.”

“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I don't think you need much compassion.”

“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never matter. A thousand things may arise!”

„We‘ll see about that Clare. We‘re not to be trifled with, I promise!“

* * *

By Monday, Clare had convinced Acting Director of Communications Julius Nicholson that the Scottish election campaign lacked of female support and to send her up north to get involved. She had managed to have him believe that he came up with the idea himself.

“That‘s excellent work, Clare!" said Nicola. "It's just not done that the interference of friends or parties will persuade an attractive man to think no more of a woman whom he was violently desiring only a few days before.”

“That expression of ‘violently desiring’ is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. Do you really think Jamie actually gives a fuck?“

“I don‘t know him very well, but I believe he normally never leaves Malcolm‘s side for long, does he? With you, he was growing quite inattentive to him, and he didn‘t even cast a glance at the usual young spads trying to pull him. Could there be finer symptoms?”

“Oh, yes!—of that kind of desire I suppose him to feel, but that may be only temporary. Anyway, change of scene might be of service to me —and perhaps a little relief from Westminster may be as useful as anything. Seeing the campaign is all over Scotland it is not even that probable that we should meet at all, unless he really comes to see me.”

“And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of Malcolm, and he would not suffer him to go astray! Malcolm may perhaps have _heard_ of sex but he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities.“

Clare‘s reply to Nicola was kindly given:

“You are too sensible Nicola, to stay married because you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. I have nothing specific to say against James, but as it is, you must not let your fancy run away with you. You have had difficulties before and do not know whether he is genuinely trying to change. You have sense, and I derly beg you to use it."

“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of myself, and of James too. He shall not fool me, if I can prevent it. At present I am no fool; no, I certainly am not. But he is more agreeable at the moment than I ever saw him—and if he tries to become a better husband I cannot see the imprudence of it."

* * *

Clare texted her from Glasgow some days later. She had not seen Jamie yet. „If he had at all cared about me, we must have met. He knows of my being in town.“

This gave Nicola some pain. Jamie‘s character sunk on every review of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible advantage to Clare, she seriously hoped he might stay in Scotland.

As for her husband, she had had to acknowledge that his efforts had subsided, his attentions were over. He was having an affair. Nicola was watchful enough to see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain. Her heart was touched, and her vanity was crushed to have been believing for a short period that their marriage could have been saved.

When James moved out, she was determined not to quarrel with him for money or custody. She was ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very sincerely wish him happy.


	14. Interference

The following month was to take Nicola to Liverpool for series of events around citizenship so she would stay there for a couple of days. She was happy for a change of scenery. The only pain was in leaving her children, who would certainly miss her. The farewell between herself and James was perfectly friendly; on his side even more. His present pursuit could not make him forget that Nicola had been an amiable wife; and his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, had her convinced that, whether married or separated, he must always be her model of the amiable and pleasing.

Nicola had chosen the hotel herself because she had liked its location during a previous stay. After she checked in she had a pleasant walk around the city before attending an evening function. The food was exceedingly handsome, but the dinner party did not supply much conversation.

At lunch with Liverpool‘s mayor on the next day, Nicola heard that Mr. Tucker was expected there later, and although she was furious she could not escape the party's scrutiny for more than a day, his coming would at least spice up their evening functions, and she might amuse herself watching him having to wear black tie and refrain from swearing for several hours at a time.

The mayor leant over to Nicola and said „I may thank you, Minister, for this piece of civility. The Director of Communcations would never have come here to wait upon _me_.”

Nicola had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment, before the two gentlemen entered the room. Malcolm had brought Frankie Fitzwilliam with him, a member of the notorious Caledonian Mafia of Communications. Frankie was about thirty-five, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Malcolm Tucker looked just as he had been used to look in London — pale, angry, gaunt - and paid his compliments, with his usual arrogance, to the mayor. Nicola merely nodded to him without saying a word.

Frankie Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with readiness and ease; but Malcolm, after having addressed everybody, sat for some time without speaking, only checking his Blackberry. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of Nicola after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, and after a moment’s pause, added: “Clare‘s gone up to Scotland to help with the election campaign. Have you never happened to see her there?”

She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished to see whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between Jamie and Clare, and she thought he looked a little confused as he answered that he had not been so fortunate as to meet The Right Honorable Clare Ballantine. The subject was pursued no farther.

They met again later that day at the opening of a community centre where Nicola was to give the main speech. Since Nicola had no advisor with her Frankie seemed glad to assist; anything was a welcome change to his usual tasks; and the lovely secretary of state had caught his fancy very much. He seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Scotland, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and art, that Nicola had never been half so well relaxed before a speech; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Malcolm. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity.

When they were called in for the event, Nicola took her assigned seat in the front row and was surprised to find Malcolm sitting next to her as to command a full view of the podium. Nicola suspected what he was doing, and while they were waiting for the ceremony to begin, turned to him with an arch smile, and said: “You mean to frighten me, Malcolm, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

“I shall not say you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really fucking believe me to entertain any design of alarming you.”

Nicola laughed at this and said „Malcolm, you are provoking me to contradict you, and such things may come out as will shock our hosts to hear.”

“I am not afraid to offend,” said he, smilingly.

“Why would a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, always aim to offend?”

“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Malcolm, “of conversing easily with dimwits. I cannot bear their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

„My speeches“ said Nicola „are not as brilliant as those of some of my colleagues. I have not the same verbalism or precision, and do not produce the same enthusiasm. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do believe myself less capable.”

Malcolm smiled and said, “You are fucking right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of knowing you can think anything wanting.”

At the subsequent cocktail reception Nicola was surprised to find Malcolm often by her side. Why he chose to be there was difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently stood there ten minutes without opening his lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice—a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really animated.

* * *

During the next two days Nicola more than once unexpectedly met Malcolm somewhere around her hotel. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where only she was staying, and, to prevent it ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her children, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of the Scottish election campaign.

On her last afternoon she was standing outside the hotel in perusing Clare‘s latest text, when, instead of being again surprised by Malcolm, she saw on looking up that Frankie Fitzwilliam was meeting her.

“Do you leave Liverpool tomorrow?” said she.

“Yes—if Malcolm does not put it off again. I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases.”

“And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Malcolm.”

“He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Frankie. “But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he has power, and many others don‘t.”

“I imagine Malcolm brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind.“

„I always thought that was he kept Jamie for” giggled Frankie.

“Oh! yes,” said Nicola drily; “and Malcolm takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”

“Care of him! Yes, I really believe Malcolm _does_ take care of him in those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think Jamie is very much indebted to him.”

“What is it you mean?”

“It is a circumstance which Malcolm could not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to Westminster, it would be an unpleasant thing.”

“You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”

“And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be Jamie. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of an affair with some woman in Westminster but without mentioning names or whether it was an MP or journalist or else, and I only suspected it to be Jamie from believing him the kind of man to get into a scrape of that sort.”

“Did Malcolm give you reasons for this interference?”

“I understood that there he had some very strong objections against a scandal.”

“And what arts did he use to separate them?”

“He did not talk to me of his dark arts,” said Frankie, smiling. “He only told me what I have now told you.”

Nicola made no answer, her heart swelling with indignation. After watching her a little, Frankie asked her why she was so thoughtful.

“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Why was he to be the judge?”

“You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”

“I do not see what right Malcolm had to decide on the propriety of his friend’s inclination, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy.“

At her room, Nicola thought of all that she had heard. It was not to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the world _two_ friends of Malcolm. That he had been concerned in the measures taken to separate Jamie and Clare she had never doubted; but _he_ was the cause, his schemes were the cause of all that Clare had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a while every hope of a fucking thrilling sex life for the most affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.

The anger and fury which the subject occasioned, brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening, that, added to her unwillingness to see the evil Lord of the Spin, it determined her not to attend the dinner function she had agreed on but to excuse herself and stay in her room.


	15. Is it me or did it get hot in here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FUCK!

In her room, Nicola, as if intending to exasperate herself as much as possible against Malcolm, chose for her employment the examination of all the texts which Clare had written to her since her being in Scotland. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had used to characterise her style, and which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Nicola noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Malcolm’s shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict, gave her a keener sense of Clare’s sufferings.

While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by a knock on the door of her room, and her spirits were a little aroused by the idea of it being Frankie Fitzwilliam, who had once before come to her room late in the evening when they had possibly both been a little too drunk, and might now want to come to ‚inquire particularly‘ after her. But her naughty thoughts were soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, Malcolm walked into the room. In a flustered manner he immediately began to inquire after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room. Nicola was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began:

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My cock will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I want to fuck you.”

* * *

_Interval for getting smelling salts for fainting ladies. Or ice cream. Or to quickly ruffle Malcolm's hair._

* * *

Nicola’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. Malcolm naturally considered this sufficient encouragement to pull her towards himselt to kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat. Nicola was too shocked to stop him.

The avowal of all the desire that he felt, and had long felt for her, and what he intended to do with her, immediately followed in great detail while he kissed her neck. He spoke well and did mention some interesting things... but of course there were matters besides those of the cock to be detailed, and he was even more eloquent on the obstacles to the desired act of intercourse while pacing thorugh the room. His sense of her political inferiority - of its being a degradation - of the family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a precision and sarcasm which seemed due to the job he was holding, but were very unlikely to recommend his suit.

In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could imagine many women might take the lust of this attractive and powerful man for them as a compliment, and though her intentions did not vary for an instant, she felt a little sorry for having to reject him, until she realised by his lengthy rant there were not feelings to spare apart from his vanity, and lost all compassion in anger. She still tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience, when he should have done.

He continued with detailing to her the strength of his desire which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; this led to embracing her and pushing his hot body against her so she felt his surprisingly thick stiff cock against her belly and was briefly reminded of some things that had been said in Eastbourne... He concluded with expressing his hope that this would now be rewarded by her acceptance to take him to bed. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He _spoke_ of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed only self-content.

His smugness infuriated Nicola even more, when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she said:

“In such delicate cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of … er… obligation... for the … er… sentiments... avowed, however unwanted they may be. If I could _feel_ gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot - I have never desired you, and you have certainly bestowed your desire most unwillingly. I am sorry to have stirred any.. sentiments.. of that sort.. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I am sure it will cease quickly. The political deliberations which you were so kind as to describe in such detail have long prevented the acknowledgment of your lust and can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

Malcolm, who was leaning against the window with his eyes fixed on her lips, seemed to hear her words with total surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the upper hand and would not shut his lips till they had shouted each and every insult to her that were available to him. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said:

“And this is all the fucking reply which I am to have the fucking honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little fucking _endeavour_ at fucking civility, I am thus rejected. Not that it is of much importance.”

“I might as well ask why with such a fucking large desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you wanted to fuck me against your will, against your better judgement, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I _was_ uncivil? But I have other provocations. You bloody well know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you - had they at least been indifferent, or even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to fuck the man who didn't even let my good friend, Clare Ballentine, monkey around with that psycho sidekick of yours?”

As she pronounced these words, Malcolm changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued:

“I have every reason in the world to think you a fucking manipulative bastard. No motive can excuse the unjust and unnecessary part you acted _there_. You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been dividing Clare and Jamie from each other and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”

She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening calmly and totally unembarrassed. He even looked at her with a most patronising smile.

“Don‘t you even try to deny that you have done it?” she aked him irritatedly.

With assumed tranquillity he replied: “Why would I deny that I did everything in my power to separate my friend Jamie from Clare, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards _him_ I have been kinder than towards myself.”

“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike is founded. Long before that my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the story which I received a couple of weeks ago from my husband James. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of honour can you here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation?”

“Even after separating from him you still take an eager interest in your husband‘s business concerns” said Malcolm, in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.

“Who that knows what how he was duffed up can help feeling an interest in him?”

“Duffed up!” shouted Malcolm contemptuously; “oh yes, poor James was grievously wronged.”

“And it was by your schemes,” cried Nicola with energy. “You pushed the trigger button that led to him ultimately working with Albany. You have withheld him from having a position at the party where he could have been actually helping people. You have deprived him of the opportunity of doing what is good and right! You have done all this! and yet you dare to comment the mention of his suffering your manipulations with contempt and sarcasm.”

“And this,” cried Malcolm, as he paced across the room, “is your fucking opinion of me! This is the low estimation in which you hold me after working with me since joining government! Why thank you Minister for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to your fucking version of the story, are heavy indeed! But perhaps,” added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, “these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my making any serious attempt to seduce you. Your bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I concealed my struggles, and charmed you into the belief of my loving you, my ardly admiring your pea sized brain, your colossal fuckups, your lack of political talent and not to mention your ill-behaved brats! But to disguise the wish for sex with the pretension of love is my abhorrence. I am not ashamed of the needs I related. They are natural and just. You can't expect me to take a pride in wanting to fuck a middle-aged fucked up frump of no political influence! To congratulate myself on the hope of fucking someone whose intellect is so decidedly beneath my own!”

Nicola felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said:

“You are mistaken, Malcolm, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way than it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”

She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued: “You could not have made the offer to sleep with you in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on:

“From the very beginning - from the first moment, I may almost say - of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were the groundwork of despising you on which succeeding events have built so immovable a disdain; and I had not known you a month before I felt that if you were the last man in the world I still wouldn‘t fuck you.”

“You have said quite enough, Minister. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to regret of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

And with these words he left the room, slamming the door behind him, and Nicola heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the hotel.

The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she should receive an indecent proposal from Malcolm of all people! That Malcolm had sexual desires after all, and that he should have wanted her for so long! So much lusting after her as to confess his needs to her - in spite of all the obstacles he had defined against an affair of Clare and Jamie, that must be even bigger in his own case— no one would believe her if she ever lived to tell the story!

It actually did flatter her ego a little that such a powerful man (and actually quite sexy, as a short twitch between her legs reminded her) should want her so much. But his pride, his abominable arrogance — his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Clare — his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging the manipulation, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned James, his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of Malcolm's unknown human side had excited.


	16. If we could send letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heat wave and all work make writing exhausting.
> 
> So just half a chapter for you. Sorry.

Nicola awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and confusion which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of anything else and fear the consequences her refusal of Mighty Malcolm might have on her political career; and she resolved to check out after breakfast and travel back to London.

Along with the bill the receptionist handed her a letter addressed to her in Malcolm‘s distinctive handwriting.

With no expectation of anything but threats and swear words, but with the strongest curiosity, Nicola opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper, written in a very close hand. Sitting down at breakfast, she began reading it. It was dated at six o’clock in the morning, and was as follows:

“ _Don‘t panic, Nicola, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those desires or renewal of those offers which were last night so fuckin‘ disgusting to you. I write without any intention of insulting you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes which, for the happiness of the party, cannot be too soon forgotten. You must pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice._

_“You accused me of two offenses of a very different nature last night. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Jamie from Clare, and the other, that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity and blasted the prospects of your subsequent husband. Wilfully and wantonly to have thrown off an acknowledged favourite of the former Prime Minister and a beneficial policy, to which the separation of two persons, whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. But I will account of my actions and their motives nonetheless. In the explanation of them, I may act under the necessity of using expletives which may be offensive to you._

_“I had noticed, in common with others, that Jamie was attracted to Clare but it was not till the party at Number Ten that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. I had often seen him pursuing women before. From that moment I observed his behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Clare was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Clare‘s look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging, but without any symptom of her heart being touched. If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in error, and I'll cut off your lady bollocks and feed them to you if you ever mention this to anyone. That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain—but I will venture to say that my investigation and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. My objections to their affair were not merely those which I last night acknowledged; Jamie would not give a fuck about them though._

_These causes must be stated, though briefly. Clare may have defeated her online gambling addiction but the hacks would gladly dig up that dirt if she were seen with Jamie._

_We left for Scotland where I readily engaged in pointing out to Jamie the certain evils of such a choice. But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the affair, had it not been seconded by the assurance that I hesitated not in giving, of Clare’s indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal regard._

_But wee Jamie suprisingly naturally modest, with a stronger dependence on my judgement than on his own. To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning to London soon was hence scarcely the work of a moment._

_I cannot blame myself for having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct in the whole business on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to take his phone and delete all messages from Clare to conceal from him her being in Scotland. I knew it myself, of course, for I am all knowing, but Jamie is even now ignorant of it._

_That they might have met without ill consequence is perhaps probable; but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me; it is done, however, and it was done for the best of the party. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded Clare’s feelings, it was unknowingly done and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them._

_With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having injured your husband, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with our party. Of what he has particularly accused me I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity."_


	17. Looking out for Linda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alas! The second part of Malcom's letter has appeared!

_“The former PM met James at Cambridge about twenty years ago. He was not only fond of his society and manners, he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping politics would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. The vicious propensities—the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of the PM, could not escape the observation of me - then working as a special advisor to the PM - and I had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which the PM could not have. Here again I may give you pain—to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which your husband has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character, it adds even another motive._

_Before the PM died he confided in me to assist James‘s political advancement in the best manner. Your future husband however told me to go fuck myself, having finally resolved against investing in a political career, expecting some more immediate pecuniary advantage in working in the city._

_I knew that your husband ought not to be a politician; the business was therefore soon settled—he resigned all claim to future assistance in the party, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return letter of recommendation to a well known investment company. All connection between us seemed then dissolved._

_I believe he chiefly lived in London, but his pursuing a honourable career was a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about ten years I heard little of him; but when I became director of communications, he applied to me again. He made a more than dubious investment plan for which he seeked political promotion which has come to be known as a most despicable form of PFI tax evation._

_You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, even though I regret to say that I later learned some party members did get involved. After this period every appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I knew not. Only when you became Secretary of State he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice._

_I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. James had been plotting to get back on me and used Linda, my then assistant, as a means to do this._

_Linda had just finished university and was young and inexperienced and was in no way prepared for the wicked ways in which people act to harm each other. It pains me to say that working with me might have changed her in that respect._

_In the first summer recess she went on holiday to Ramsgate; and thither also went your husband, undoubtedly by design; and by a couple of days, he so far recommended himself to Linda, whose affectionate heart always saw the best in people, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an affair. I came across them together unexpectedly a day or two after parliament had started, and then Linda, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a superior whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. She was then but twenty-one, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add, she realised it herself._

_Regard for Linda‘s credit and feelings and yourself as a young mother and aspiring MP prevented any public exposure. One of your husband’s objects may have been getting some political connections via Linda, but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me by conjuring a political scandal was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed._

_This is a fucking faithful narrative of every personal event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards your husband. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you; but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your fuzzy little brain._

_You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night; but I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. Although Linda stopped working in Westminster shortly after I wished to obtain her consent to relate the details to you._

_For the truth of everything, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Jamie, who has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of some of the necessary transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in Jamie; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him._

_I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of getting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning._

_Fuckity bye, Malcolm F. Tucker"_


	18. Poor little fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had some new ideas for improving the plot but better get the initial draft off the table first.

If Nicola, when she opened the letter did expect it to contain a renewal of Malcolm‘s indecent proposal, she was to be frustrated. With a strong prejudice against everything he might say, she read with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of Clare’s insensibility she instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her angry. He expressed no regret for what he had done; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence and just what what to be expected of Malcolm Tucker as she knew him.

But when this subject was succeeded by his account of James — when she read with somewhat clearer attention a relation of events which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of her (at least still in the legal sense) husband - her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. She wished to discredit it entirely, repeatedly whispering “This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”- and when she had gone through the whole letter, declared that she would not regard it, that she would never look in it again.

In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on nothing, she walked to the station to catch her train back to London. She called her driver to pick her up in London. Within half a minute of sitting in the coach the letter was unfolded again, and she again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to James, and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with the former PM was exactly what he had related himself; and the PM‘s wish to support James‘ career agreed equally well with his own words.

So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to the investment project, the difference was great. What James had said was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was impossible not to feel that one of the two men tried to fuck with her. When she read and re-read with the closest attention, some memories safely tucked away in a remote area of her brain stumbled into the light. Again she read on; but every line proved more clearly that the whole story, which she had believed never to be told as to render Malcolm’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make him nearly blameless throughout the whole. Fuck Malcolm, fuck Malcolm, FUCK MALCOLM!

The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay at her husband’s charge, did not shock her; the more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him working with his own company, of his former way of life she knew nothing but what he had told himself. As to his real character she had learned a lot during the past years of their marriage, and when his countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue, she had to admit he had not been a good husband and father and seemed to be lax on principles. She tried to recollect some instance of morality, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Malcolm; or at least atone for a behaviour that Malcolm had described as corrupt and adulterous. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see James instantly before her as he had been when they first met, in every charm of air and address. She could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of her parents and the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social advancement had gained him in their circle of acquaintances. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his designs on Malcolm‘s assistant, received some confirmation from the affair James had had before their separation, and she cast her mind back to some of his obscure business trips and dinners over the past years.

At last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Jamie MacDonald, whose character she had no reason to question, from everything that Clare had told her. At one time she had almost resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that Malcolm would never have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been well assured of Jamie’s corroboration.

She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in her conversation with James when he had taken her to lunch. She was _now_ struck with the realisation that James had never been interested in her work at DoSAC before, and wondered how it had escaped her. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear of seeing Malcolm—that _he_ should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the party at Number Ten.

How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned! His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive; he had either been trying to cover his ass by finding out if she had been briefed by Malcolm, or had been gratifying his vanity by believing he could still wrap her around his finger. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Malcolm, she remembered that Jamie, when questioned by Clare, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that proud and repulsive as were Malcolm's manners, she had never, in the whole course of their acquaintance—an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of insight in his ways—seen anything that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust – he was manipulative and aggressive and yet she had often heard him speak so affectionately of Sam as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling towards his staff.

She felt absolutely embarrassed and guilty and egg on face. Of neither Malcolm nor James could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. She rummaged in her bag for her rescue remedy.

“How despicably I have acted!” she cried; “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on keeping my family together, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Had I been a fucking teenager in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. ”

From herself to Clare—from Clare to Jamie, her thoughts were in a line which soon reminded her that Malcolm’s explanation _there_ had appeared very insufficient, and she read it again. Widely different was the effect of a second perusal. How could she deny that credit to his assertions in one instance, which she had been obliged to give in the other? He declared himself to be totally unsuspicious of Clare’s feelings; and she remembered that Clare’s feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner not often united with deep emotions.

When she came to that part of the letter in which the threat of a scandal was mentioned in terms of such mortifying, yet merited reproach, her sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial.

After an exhausting train ride, giving way to every variety of thought — re-considering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence, made her tell her driver to take her straight home.

She could not sleep that night. When she remembered the style of Malcolm's hit on her, she was still full of indignation; but when she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself; and his disappointed feelings became almost the object of compassion. His desire flattered her now, she respected his honesty, but she could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal, or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again outside the bare minimum at work. In her own past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret; and in the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin. They were hopeless of remedy.


	19. Tell her about it

Nicola’s firm resolution to acquaint Clare with what had happened could no longer be avoided; and at length, resolving to suppress every particular in which her friend was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised, she related to her on the phone the chief of the scene between Malcolm and herself.

Clare’s amazement was immense, understandably so, because no one had ever heard of Malcolm laying eyes on a woman again after Kelly Grogan had left him almost a decade ago.

It was soon lessened by the strong partiality which made any admiration of Nicola appear perfectly natural; and that did seem to reconcile her with his general rude behaviour. She was sorry that Malcolm should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the unhappiness which Nicola’s refusal must have given him.

“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she, “and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his disappointment!”

“Fuck him,” replied Nicola, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has other feelings, which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”

“Blame you! Oh, no. He is the Dark Lord of Westminster, I can't blame you for not fucking him, even though I must say I am more than a little curious about his sexual performance”

“Thank you, Clare Ballantine MP, for putting that thought in my mind. But do you blame me for believing he had mistreated James? You warned me against James yourself”

“No—I do not know that you were wrong in doing what you did. James is still your husband after all“.

“But you _will_ blame me, when I tell you what happened the very next day.”

She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as far as they concerned James. Clare did try her best to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear the one without involving the other.

“Fuck it Clare,” said Nicola; “you never will be able to make both of them look good in this. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. There is little quantity of merit between them; just enough to make one not totally abhorrent sort of man at the maximum. For my part, I am inclined to believe Malcolm’s version; but you shall do as you choose.”

There was some silence before Clare replied: “I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “James so very bad to the core is almost past belief. It is a very close second to Malcolm having actual human needs! Sorry for laughing Nicola, but consider what he must have suffered. I don't think there is a minister in cabinet that actually said no to Malcom ever. And with the knowledge of your ill opinion, too! and having to relate such a thing of his assisant! It is really too funny. I am sure you must feel it so.”

“Oh! no, my humour and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice in both respects, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. If you talk about him much longer, my heart will be as light as a feather.” said Nicola with a weak smile.

“I never thought Malcolm so deficient in _appearance_ as you used to do. He is actually quite hot, if you fancy lanky guys”

“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintances in general and the family in particular understand James‘s character.”

Clare paused a little, and then replied, “Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. You could not keep it out of the media could you? Wouldn't the children suffer? What is your opinion?”

“That it ought not to be attempted. You are right as far as the children are concerned, and Malcolm has not authorised me to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself. Who would believe me anyhow? The general prejudice against Malcolm is so violent, that it would be the death of half the party to attempt to place him in an amiable light. At present I will say nothing about it.”

* * *

That evening James came around the house to pick up his last belongings. Having been only in his company with the children aorund since her return, her agitation was pretty well over; same as her former deception. She had begun to detect, in the very gentleness which had so long delighted her, an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his present behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure, for the inclination he showed to try to win her over could only serve, after what had she had come to know, to provoke her.

He stayed for dinner, and so little was Nicola disposed to part from him in good humour, that on his making some inquiry as to her trip to Liverpool she mentioned Frankie Fitzwilliam’s and Malcolm’s having both spent a couple of days there.

He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but with a moment’s recollection and a returning smile, replied, that since she always made such a mess of herself on formal occaions she must have found his presence helpful. Nicola felt deeply offended but chose to answer warmly in Malcolm‘s favour. With an air of indifference he soon afterwards added:

“How long did you say he was in Liverpool?”

“Nearly four days.”

“And you saw him frequently?”

“Yes, two or three times every day.”

“His manners are very different on formal occasions I presume.”

“Yes, very different. But I think Malcolm improves upon acquaintance anyhow.”

“Indeed!” cried her husband with a look which did not escape her. “And pray, may I ask?"—But checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is it in address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary style?—for I dare not hope,” he continued in a more serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”

“Oh, no!” said Nicola. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much what he ever was.”

While she spoke, James looked as if scarcely knowing whether to feel reassured over her words, or to distrust their meaning. There was a something in Nicola's countenance which made him listen with an unknown apprehensive and anxious attention, while she added:

“When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but that, from knowing him better, I understood his disposition much better.”

James‘s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated look; for a few minutes he was silent, till, shaking off his embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of accents:

“You, who so well know my feeling towards Malcolm, will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the _appearance_ of what is right. His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by.“

Nicola could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge him. The rest of the evening passed with the _appearance_ , on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to press Nicola; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never talking about anything apart from the children ever again.


	20. And I may walk in cities where the wolf once had his fill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally managed to work around Pemberley as a plot point.
> 
> Gorbals, therefore, they were to go.

Upon the whole, Nicola found herself looking forward to the summer. The summer recess of parliament was now the object of her happiest thoughts; and since the children were to stay with James‘s parents for three weeks, she would be free to visit Clare. They fixed a date for the beginning of their northern tour in Glasgow. In Scotland there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks; and while Glasgow had a peculiarly strong attraction to Clare because Jamie had spend the formative years of his life there, they would only stay there for a few days, before taking in all the celebrated beauties of Edinburgh, Skye, Mull and the Highlands.

With the mention of Glasgow there were many ideas connected. It was impossible for Nicola to hear the city‘s name without thinking of Malcom. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his homeland with impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spads without his perceiving me.”

One enjoyment was certain—that of suitableness of companions; a suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences—cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure that they happened to meet along the road.

On their third day the weather was lovely, and since Nicola had always been interested in cemeteries, Clare was showing her around the beautiful landscape of the Necropolis. As they were admiring the view of the city, Nicola found from Clare, there was a Southern Necropolis, situated in Gorbals, just a pleasant stroll of two miles away. Nicola was applied to for her approbation.

“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so much?” said her Clare; “Malcolm passed all his youth there, you know.”  
Nicola was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Gorbals, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. Clare abused her stupidity. “If it were merely another cemetery ” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but it‘s history is most interesting, as it was established to enable the working classes to become proprietors of burying places similar to those in the Necropolis“.

Nicola said no more—but her mind could not acquiesce. The possibility of meeting Malcolm, while viewing the place, instantly occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea, and thought it would be better to speak openly to Clare than to run such a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries to his absence were unfavourably answered.

Accordingly, when Clare had a bathroom break, she called Sam Cassidy to ask whether Malcolm had any business in Glasgow this week. A most welcome negative followed the last question—and her alarms now being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see the neigbourhood herself; and when the subject was revived , she could readily answer, and with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. Gorbals, therefore, they were to go.

* * *

Nicola, as they walked along, watched the first appearance of Gorbals Rose Garden with some perturbation; and when at length they entered the Sourthern Necropolis through the impressive Gatehouse, her spirits were in a high flutter.

The cemetery was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They walked for some time through it.

Nicola’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw every remarkable monument and point of view. They gradually walked to the part where the more recent deaths were buried, and then found themselves in front of a grave with the most beautiful hydrangea Nicola had ever seen. They hid a very simple tombstone of white marble. The epitaph read: "Margaret Tucker, 1934-2008. Always loving, always loved". The grave was immaculately kept.

She longed to inquire at the cemetery office whether Malcolm Tucker came to the grave regularly, but had not the courage for it. At length however, the question was asked by Clare; and she turned away with alarm, while the elederly official, a Mr. Reynold, replied that he was, adding, “We expect him to-morrow, with his sister, as it is their mother‘s day of death.” How glad was Nicola that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!

„They come here regularly. They have always been very considerate and loving children, I have known them since their childhood” said Mr. Reynolds. „There could have been no better son than Malcolm, particularly after his father‘s death“.

„I have heard much of Malcolm‘s colourful personality,” said Clare “But Nicola, you must know more about it”

Mr. Reynolds respect for Nicola seemed to increase.

“Does that lady know Malcolm?”

Nicola coloured, and said: “A little.”

“And do not you think him a very considerate gentleman, ma’am?”

“Well, er, he certainly thinks constantly about other people.”

“Is Malcolm‘s sister as thoughtful as her brother?” said Clare.

“Oh! yes—the most thoughtful lady that ever was seen; and so polite!“

Nicola could not help saying, “It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think him so agreeable.”

“I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him,” replied the other. Nicola thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as Mr. Reynolds added, “I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was fourteen years old.”

This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened; she longed to hear more, and was grateful to her friend for saying:

“There are very few people of whom so much can be said.”

“Yes, ma‘am. But I have always observed, that who are good-natured when bairns, are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted bonny lad.”

Nicola listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more.

“There is not one in Gorbals but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; aye, but I am sure I never saw anythin' of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not bootlickin' away like other men.”

There was certainly at this moment, in Nicola’s mind, a more gentle sensation towards Malcolm Tucker than she had ever felt at the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mr. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent friend of the family? As she stood before the cemetery office, she thought of his proposal with a deeper sentiment of being flattered than she had been before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.


	21. Penguin Run!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since this is set entirely on location, I need to do some online research. Apologies if I don't do Gorbals justice.
> 
> I have to confess I spend quite some time wondering how I could make Malcolm run towards Nicola, just to see Malcolm's famous run :)

After taking leave of Mr Reynolds, they were walking along the river Clyde. As they approached St. Andrew‘s Suspension Bridge, Clare smiled apologetically to Nicola and stopped to take a call on her phone. Nicola was admiring the construction and taking some pictures with her phone when she saw a man stepping on the bridge on the other side. She recognized the angular figur instantly. They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of both were overspread with the deepest blush.

He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced her, and spoke to Nicola, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility. She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach, received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be overcome. He invaded her personal space just by a tiny amount, but when she looked into his eyes she found his pupils wide and when her gaze dropped to his mouth she realised he was actually smiling gently at her.

Clare was still on the phone, but when she turned round to wave to Nicola she instantly recognized Malcolm Tucker talking to her friend who, astonished and confused, scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she returned to his civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued made her heart beat faster and her breath get more irregular. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he spoke, his accent was thick and his voice had none of its usual aggressive sarcasm; and he repeated his inquiries as to the time of her having left London, and of her having stayed in Glasgow, unwittingly touching her forearms so often and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the distraction of his thoughts.

At length every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a few moments just sharing glances without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took leave. Clare then joined her, and expressed some curiousity about their conversation; but Nicola heard not a word, and wholly engrossed by her own feelings, walked with her in silence.

She was overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! How strange it must appear to him to meet her in Gorbals! In what a disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again!

Oh! why did she come? Or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had he been only ten minutes sooner, he would have found them inquiring after his family, for it was plain that he was on his way to the cemetery. She blushed again and again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so strikingly altered—what could it mean? That he should still speak to her at all was amazing!—but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little condescending, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Liverpool , when he came up to her room! She knew not what to think, or how to account for it.

* * *

They had now entered a beautiful walk in Glasgow Green, but it was some time before Nicola was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals of Clare and seemed to direct her eyes to such views as she pointed out, she distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all strangley fixed on that one spot of Gorbals whichever it might be, where Malcolm was. She longed to know what at the moment was passing in his mind—in what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything, he still desired her. Perhaps he had been civil because he felt he had prevailed his passions; yet there had been a fervour in his voice which was not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with composure.

Whilst wandering around the park in this slow manner, they were again surprised, and Nicola’s astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Malcolm running towards them, and at no great distance. The open landscape allowed them to see him before they met. Nicola, however astonished, was at least more prepared for a conversation than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed, she felt that he probably meant to meet someone else. The idea lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance, she saw that he had lost none of his recent charm; and, to imitate his politeness, she began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place; but she had not got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Gorbals from her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed, and she said no more.

Clare was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked Clare if she would do him the honour of letting him accompany them back to their hotel. This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the acquaintance of some of those very people against whom his pride had revolted in his offer to herself. She listened most attentively to their conversation, surprised how much effort Malcolm put into having an actual conversation with her friend, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of Clare, which marked her intelligence, her taste, and her good manners.

Her astonishment, however, was extreme, and continually was she repeating, “What the fuck has happened? Why does he behave like that? It cannot be for _me_ —it cannot be for _my_ sake that his manners are thus softened. Even _my_ reproofs could not work such a change as this. And it is impossible that he should still want me.”

When Clare had to take another call, Malcolm fell back to join Nicola, and they walked on together. After a short silence, Nicola spoke. She wished him to know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been very unexpected—“for Sam,” she added, “told me that you would certainly not be here till tomorrow.” He acknowledged the truth of it all, and said his family occasioned his coming forward early. “I will meet them tomorrow for the annual dinner celebrating our mam's birthday. I haven't had time to help with the preparations for some years. Jamie will be there too”

Nicola didn‘t answer. Her thoughts were instantly driven back to the time when Jamie’s name had been last mentioned between them; and, if she might judge by his complexion, _his_ mind was not very differently engaged.

“There is also one other person” he continued after a pause, “who particularly wishes get to know you, my niece. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to ask you and Clare to tomorrow's dinner at my sister's house?”

The surprise of such an application was great indeed. She immediately felt that whatever caused Malcolm‘s sister to invite her might be the work of her brother, and, though she felt slightly panicky she was glad that his resentment had not made him think really ill of her, and that he'd finally help to reunite Jamie and Clare. Unless it was one of his Malciavellian traps.

They now walked on in silence, Malcolm having linked her arm in his, each of them deep in thought. Nicola was not comfortable; that were impossible: Malcolm's silence made her very nervous; but she was flattered and pleased. His wish of introducing her to his family was a compliment of the highest kind.

Malcolm accompanied the ladies to their hotel, and as Clare went in to get their key cards, he pulled Nicola's hand to his lips and briefly kissed her palm before walking away. Nicola watched him misty-eyed.

“He is strangely well behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said Clare. “I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. He was more than civil; he was really attentive, almost nice? Like a normal person? Is there some cabal going on in the party?“

Nicola said that she had liked him better in Glasgow than before, and that she had never seen him so pleasant as today either.

The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Nicola much attention for anything else that night; and she could do nothing but think, and think with wonder, of Malcolm’s civility, and, above all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister.

That night, Nicola lay awake two whole hours endeavouring to make out her feelings for Malcolm. She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling it. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her; and she felt she might actually like him, by listening to the testimony so highly in his favour, and by experiencing him on his best behaviour herself. But above all, she was grateful, not merely for having once desired her, but for caring still enough for her to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would crush her in a heartbeat as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, rather eager to meet her on a personal level. Moreover without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, he was soliciting the good opinion of her friend, and bent on making her known to his sister.

Such a change in a man of so much pride was not only exciting astonishment and gratitude — it did stir up something deeper inside her. Now she felt flattered by his attention, she felt a surprising interest in his welfare; and she only wondered ­how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would create sexual pleasure for both of them and if she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, to make him renew his addresses.


	22. James is such a tosser

Nicola had been a good deal disappointed in not hearing from Katie for some days. But when she got ready on the next morning to go down to breakfast her repining was over, and Katie justified, by the receipt of a series of messages that concluded with:

“Mum, don‘t worry, we‘re all fine. This is about Dad. He ran off with some escort or something. There may be fraud involved. Maybe worse. His phone is turned off. The police may want to talk to you. Can you come home? There are newspeople besieging Gramps‘ and Grannie's house. We don't know how to tackle this. Don‘t worry, Ella, Ben and Josh are fine. We‘ll manage. ILY.“

„Fucking bastard!“ cried Nicola, darting from her seat as she finished reading the texts, in eagerness to rush to the station and get on a train home, without losing a moment of the time. But as she reached the door there was a short knock and Malcolm appeared. Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start, and before he could speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by her family‘s situation, blurted out, “Sorry Malcolm, I must go back to London this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose.”

“Jesus Christ woman! what is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain ye, but let me, or let reception book ye a seat. Ye're no' well enough; sit the fuck down.”

Nicola hesitated, but her knees trembled under her and she knew how little would be gained by her attempting to get anything done in this state. She sat down on the end of her bed, unable to support herself, and looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Malcolm to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, “Let me call Clare. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? Your shitty remedy rescue or some lemony tea? You look like shite.”

“No, thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from my family.”

She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could not speak another word. Malcolm, in wretched suspense, could only sit awkwardly next to her, put an arm around her, softly rubbing her shoulder, and murmur something indistinctly of his concern. He observed her in compassionate silence until her breath calmed a little. At length she spoke again. “I have just had some texts from Katie, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. James has disappeared —has left our children behind and run off with an escort or brazz or whatever; possibly taking drugs or stealing money from his company or both. _You_ know him too well to doubt the rest. The media are all over my family and they have no protection. My career is over.”

Malcolm was fixed in astonishment. “When I consider,” she added in a yet more agitated voice, “that _I_ might have prevented it! Had I but explained some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to his own family and our friends! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it's all fucked up now.”

“I am grieved indeed,” cried Malcolm; “grieved—shocked. But is it certain—absolutely certain?”

“Oh, yes! Apparantly there are enough rumours to cover stories in a dozen shitty papers, and if they can get hold of anyone talking to them, the evening news may run the story too“.

“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to sit on the story?”

“I don‘t know. Tom‘s probably losing his shit, and Fat Pat and Terri will do what they can. You know nothing can be done. Even I know too well that nothing can be done. How should anyone spin that fucking story away from me? James has no conscience. I should have left him years ago. The world will discover all about it. I have not the smallest hope. It is a catastrofuck!”

Malcolm shook his head in silent acquiescence.

“When you opened my eyes to his real character—Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not how — I was afraid of doing too much harm to my children. Huge fucking mistake!”

Malcolm made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was pacing up and down the room in earnest meditation, his brow contracted, his air alarmingly cross. Nicola observed him and instantly understood it. He had to withdraw from her affairs. Her power was sinking; everything _must_ sink under such a hurricane of piss, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither wonder nor condemn, but that did not relief her or ease her worries for her children‘s future.

Even worse, her conscience chose exactly this moment to finally made her understand her own wishes. She watched him pacing the room in silence, loosening his tie with those ridiculously beautiful hands, those beautiful eyes losing all their softness in expression, and those exquisite lips firmly pressed together.

Never had she so honestly felt that she did desire him and could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain.

But her desires as a woman, though they did intrude violently, must not overwhelm her. The humiliation, the misery James was bringing on them all, swallowed up every intimate care again; and covering her face Nicola was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by Malcolm‘s voice. In a manner which, though it spoke compassion, spoke likewise anger, he said, “I am afraid you have been long desiring me to fuck off, and I have nothing to say in excuse of my stay, but real, though probably unwanted concern. So I will not disturb you any longer. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at the family dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologise for me. Say that urgent business calls me home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long.”

He readily assured her of his secrecy; again expressed his sorrow for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope, and with only one serious, parting look, went away.

As he quitted the room, Nicola felt how improbable it was that they should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as had marked their last meetings. As she threw a retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of contradictions and varieties, she sighed at the perverseness of those feelings which would now have her interested in getting close to him, and would formerly have rejoiced in never having to see him again.

Be that as it may, she saw him go with regret; and in this early example of what James‘s infamy must produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on the demolition of her political career.

Clare came to Nicola‘s room in alarm, supposing by not meeting her over breakfast that she was taken suddenly ill; but Nicola communicated the cause of that, reading the messages aloud and showing her some news websites. Though she had never liked James, Clare could not but be deeply afflicted, for the children and for the impact on Nicola‘s career. After the first exclamations of surprise and horror, Clare promised every assistance in her power. Nicola, though expecting no less, thanked her with tears of gratitude; and everything relating to their journey to London was speedily settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be done about Malcolm?” asked Clare “I saw him leaving the hotel just now”

“I told him I will not be able to come to dinner tonight. _That_ is all settled.”


	23. Meet the Murrays

Clare convinced Nicola to rent a car for going back to London since she hoped this would cause less attention. While she drove Nicola called Katie to find out how she could meet her children. They managed to get to her in-laws' house through the back without being detected.

The little Murrays, attracted by news of their mother‘s return, were standing on the steps of the house as they Nicola and Clare entered the paddock; and the joyful surprise that lighted up their faces, and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of capers and frisks, was the first thing to make Nicola smile again.

Nicola jumped out; and, after giving each of them a long hug and telling them not to worry, hurried into the vestibule, where her mother-in-law immediately met her.

“Nicola, I‘m terrribly sorry! We have heard only twice from James in your absence. He called on Wednesday to say that he'd come round to get the children over to go on a business trip, and I thought nothing of it. He only texted ponce after that to add that he should not write again till he had something of importance to mention. Only when the police called I realised something was wrong“.

Nicola tried her best to remain calm, although she felt how her entire life was shattered. “This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much talked of. The yellow press is only the beginning. But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms of each other the balm of consolation.”

Clare, perceiving in Nicola no inclination of continuing, added, “Unhappy as the event must be for the entire family, I must stress the effect this has on Nicola‘s career: the loss of virtue in a politician is irretrievable, even if it is caused only by marriage to a fucking bastard. That one false step too many of James involves her in endless ruin; her reputation is no less brittle than it is beautiful; and now she will be punished only because she trusted in the most undeserving of the other sex. Are you sure you don't know where the twat has run to? The media will feast on this for months”

Nicola lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much oppressed to make any reply.

Her mother-in-law denied any knowledge, and left to console herself with looking after her grandchildren. She felt unprepared from such kind of moral extractions from the evil before them.

“Oh, Clare, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him, this could not have happened!”

“Perhaps it would have been better,” replied Clare. “But to expose the former faults of any person without knowing what their present feelings were, seemed unjustifiable. We acted with the best intentions.”

“Oh! Clare,” cried Nicola, “will there be anyone in Britain not to know the whole story before the end of the day?”

“I do not know. I hope so. But to be guarded at such a time is very difficult. People will talk, and even if your family kept their traps shut, I wouldn‘t count on the wankers in the financial district”

When her father-in-law came to the vestibule, he told her „I have phoned to James‘s superior to desire him to find out, if possible, from some of his co staff, whether anyone would be likely to know where he has now concealed himself. He will call me back. Do you know any of them Nicola?”

Nicola was at no loss to understand from whence this deference to her authority proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any information of so satisfactory a nature. She had met a couple of James's colleagues years ago but hadn't liked them and had abstained from meeting any of them since becoming secretary of state. When James‘s boss rang back, he had nothing of a useful nature to report. It was not known that James had a single colleague with whom he kept up any connection. He had been round the pub with a lot of them, but it did not appear that he was on terms of particular friendship with any of them. There was no one, therefore, who could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his own finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy.

* * *

Later that evening, Clare went away in all the perplexity about Nicola and her Glawegian friend that had attended her from that part of the world. His name had not been mentioned since they had left, and the kind of half-expectation which Clare had formed, of their being followed by a call from him, had ended in nothing. Nicola had received none since her return that could have come from Malcolm.

The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from _that._

Nicola, who was by this time tolerably honest towards her own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known nothing of Malcolm, she could have borne the dread of James’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought, one sleepless night out of two.

Nicola‘s phone buzzed. It was a text from Jamie, of all people. „Clare asked me to get on board. Consider it done. Tracked down the bastard and his bitch and will have a private conversation. The particulars I reserve till I‘m back, but if you are willing to sign the divorce papers now which I have ventured to send you by e-mail, I hope it will not be long before they will be signed by him too. Right after the twat signed his official declaration that you had nothing to do with all of his fucking trouble making. If you send me full powers to act in your name, I will immediately give directions to the party‘s communications team for preparing a proper statement. There will not be the smallest occasion for you to do anything; therefore stay quiet and depend on my diligence and care."

Nicola called Clare. „Yes, I phoned him. Thought this would be right up his alley. There is nothing else to be done.“

„But there are two things that I want very much to know; one is, how Jamie has managed to bring it about; and the other, how I am ever to thank him.”

“Concerning your first question, I think that no man in his senses would refuse anything Jamie demanded from them in his righteous rage.“

“That is very true,” said Nicola; “though it had not occurred to me before. Thank you for getting in touch with him, I know this can't have been easy for you." She sighed. “James to be handed over to the police and I to be divorced, and for _this_ we are to be thankful. That my children may suffer a little less.”

“We must endeavour to protect them as much as we can, steering communication firmly away from them” said Clare “I hope and trust they will be fine when the turmoil is over. Your love will steady them; and I flatter myself you will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their father's fuck up forgotten.”


	24. Doldrums

When the wretched story of James Murray, criminal and adulterer, did not appear on the evening news, Nicola peered through the windows and found there were no more newspeople outside. The children had long been sent to bed, there were only her parents-in-law and Katie sitting with her.

„Would you be okay if the children stayed with you for a couple of days longer? I‘d rather check before returning to our house until I‘m sure that the siege has been raised.“ she asked her mother-in-law.

„Of course, Nicola, we're happy to have them here".

„Are you okay with that too Katie? I know it‘s a lot to ask but it would help your siblings a lot and give me some time to get everything sorted out.“

„Yeah ok mum“. Nicola hugged her eldest daughter. „Thank you so much. We‘ll all talk about all this once the actual crisis is over, I promise. But for now I will have to assess the damage first.“

* * *

The next morning her father-in-law drove Nicola back to the family home. She was relieved to find it quiet and empty. She might have to have the locks changed, she thought.

She breathed deeply for some time before she finally called Terri.

„Yeah, there was quite the turmoil round DoSAC for two days and everyone was looking for you. I did what I could, but in the end, it was no official DoSAC business and Pat Morrissey was so out of her depth. And who should do it but Jamie, anyhow? He‘s the party‘s senior press officer, and he comes from Scotland and all. It is the first time he‘s ever done had anything for us, isn‘t it? Well! I am so happy everything turned out fine. In a short time I shall see you again, Nicola. Bye bye!“

Nicola received her congratulations and then, sick of this folly, took refuge in her study, that she might think with freedom.

* * *

Glenn had often wished before this period of his life that DoSAC were a department with real power and real budget. He now wished it more than ever. Had this been the case, they never would have had to rely on the help of Jamie McDonald, of all people. He would have done his duty in that respect, briefing against James Murray, making Nicola look good in this whole sordid affair. Nicola need not have been indebted to that little satan. The satisfaction of raining shit on of the most worthless men in Great Britain, Nicola Murray's bent husband, might then have rested in its proper place, Glenn Cullen's capable hands.

When the first rumours about James Murray had spread through Westminster like fire, he had offered his help to Fat Pat. He was a senior policy adviser with thirty year‘s of experience, for christ‘s sake. He had been denied any possibility to offer any substantial support though.

Of course he was relieved when the good news started spreading – much slower obviously - through Westminster and selected media, but also somewhat jealous.

To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of conversation had James Murray been secluded from the world, in some fucking hole in the ground.

But there was much to be talked of in divorce; and the Guardian wished for Nicola‘s well-doing as a working mum raising four kids on her own.

The tabloids could not avoid joining in, making a complete U-turn. It was clear the electorate agreed in this change of circumstances, because to remain with such an husband her misery were considered certain, so divorce was tolerated.


	25. A wild Jamie appeared!

It was a fortnight since Nicola had returned to London, and only the police had dared to question her about James‘ fraudulent schemes. She had told them all she knew: that she had never suspected anything, that she had separated from James in spring due to his constant infidelity and lack of concern for his family. She explained that this had been kept undisclosed considering the feelings of their children and party political matters. No media dared so much as hint that Nicola was anything but a strong woman who would succeed in politics even as a single mother.

Terri had been very quiet, but Nicola had been mentioning a press conference, and today was the happy day the kraken awoke. She took her seat at the head of the meeting room table again, and in spirits oppressively high, that she would be the one to organise it. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her triumph.

A long dispute with Glenn and Ollie followed this declaration; but Glenn Cullen remained firm. It soon led to another; and Terri found, with amazement and horror, that Glenn would not accept her lead in communications. He protested that she should deserve from him no mark of respect whatever on the occasion, having failed so utterly on protecting Nicola during the past crisis. Terri could hardly comprehend it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable resentment as to refuse to work with her exceeded all she could believe possible.

Nicola couldn‘t care less about the three of them bickering. She was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of the moment, been open to Malcolm about her fears and worries, for Jamie‘s involvement would so shortly give the proper termination to the whole James business. She should have thought of Jamie right away, he was famous for his attack dog skills. His last communication had led her to hope to conceal the entire affair from all those who were not immediately on the spot.

Strangely enough she had no fear of its spreading farther through Malcolm's means. There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended by now than the Dark Lord of spin; but, at the same time, there was no one whose knowledge of her own frailty would have mortified her so much.

She could not afford to dwell on her feelings though. It was too obvious that whatever brief moments of closeness there might have been between them, there now was a gulf impassable between them.She had not seen Malcolm since her return from Scotland, nor received any personal message. Even if the divorce were to be communicated on the most honourable terms, even if James were not to be sentenced for fraudulence, she could not suppos that Malcolm would connect himself with a single mother who, to every other objection, would have even more family matters to distract her from work.

From such a connection she could not wonder that he would shrink. The wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his feeling in Glasgow, could not in rational expectation survive such a blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she hardly knew of what. She became painfully aware of how much she desired his attentions, when she could no longer hope to be benefited by them. She wanted to hear of him, to see him, to be near him, and not just be copied into a departmental memo full of his usual expletives. Her mind tortured her with rather explicit fantasies of being called for a private audience at Malcolm's office when there seemed the least chance of ever getting any more attention from him again, other than the occasional bollocking any minister was in for. She was now convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet on any personal level ever again.

What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the proposals which she had so vigorously spurned in Liverpool, would now have been most gladly and gratefully received! He might be far less vile than she had long believed him to be, but while he was mortal, he would triumph, and she needed to be grateful he did not rub her nose in it.

Nicola looked back on the past months with brutal honesty. She admitted to herself that, yes, Malcolm Tucker, manipulative bastard that he was, was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most please her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the political world, she would have received benefit of greater importance.

But no such happy relationship could now teach an astonished public that there could be real felicity and meaningful sex in Westminster.

How James and his shitty life were to be kept out of public interest in the long run, she could not imagine. But that interest would decrease in time and with her leaving office. No matter the electoral outcome, she would stand down from government after the election.

Jamie phoned in. To Nicola‘s attempts to thank him he briefly replied, with assurance of his fucking eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his party; and concluded with entreaties that the subject should the fuck never be mentioned to him again. The principal purport of his call was to inform her that the bastard of her ex husband had resolved on leaving London for good.

“I convinced him he should do so,” he added, “as soon as yer divorced was fixed on. Ach, there was hardly any fucking blood. Thought the removal of him from the city was advisable, both on your account and yer bairn, so suggested Frankfurt. Surprise, some of his wanker friends were still able and willing to assist him in getting there, with a half decent job offer. Fucking tossers!“ Nicola heard the noise of something breaking in the background.

„Ach, get him away before I smash his stupid face in. Made him write to terminate his contract with Albany and take care of the financial obligations towards his children. Lawyers have all the details, and all will be completed in a week. He will go straight to Frankfurt after the press conference, unless you want to have him come to the family home to take his leave from the bairns. I‘ll bloody well make sure he‘ll behave. Ye can always take them to the airport though. Text me your decision.“


	26. James Murray finally effs off.

James‘s request, for such it might be considered, of being admitted into the family home again before he set off for Frankfurt, received at first an absolute negative. But Nicola, for the sake of their children‘s feelings and consequence, gave finally in to receive him when all settlements were agreed on. Nicola was surprised, however, that James should even want to visit them at their former home, and had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him would have been the last object of her wishes.

The day arrived; and Nicola felt for her children more than she felt for herself. Their father‘s arrival was dreaded by the elder children, and Katie more especially, who did not find in within herself to forgive him.

The family were assembled in the kitchen. Smiles decked the face of the boys as the taxi drove up to the door; Nicola looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed, anxious, uneasy.

The door was thrown open, and Jamie escorted his charge into the room. Josh and Ben ran to embrace their father. His reception from Nicola, to whom he then turned, was not quite so cordial. Her countenance rather gained in austerity; and she scarcely opened her lips. The easy assurance of her ex husband, indeed, was enough to provoke her. She was disgusted, and Katie was shocked.

Nicola had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of this impudent man.

The boys could neither of them talk fast enough; and James told them about his new job in Frankfurt, with a good humoured ease which she felt very unable to equal in her replies. Nothing of his past actions was recollected with remorse; and James led voluntarily to subjects which Nicola would not have alluded to for the world.

“Good gracious! When I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being divorced till after the election!”

Jamie violently clenched his teeth and fists. Ella was visibly distressed. Nicola looked expressively at James; but he, who never heard nor saw anything of which he chose to be insensible, gaily continued, “Oh! We‘ll all meet again soon enough, once I have settled in.”

Nicola could bear it no longer. She got up, and ran out of the room; and sat silently on the stairs, steadying her breaths. When she heard Jamie passing through the hall and swearing on his phone, she joined her children again just in time to see James bidding them farewell.

Of course James didn't give a fuck about appearances - he had been wholly free from any concern for his children all the time. „Katie and Ella and Ben and Josh, you must come down and see me.“

“We‘ll plan for that!” said their mother.

“And you may stay a couple of days on weekends and the holidays before the winter is over.”

James were not to remain above five days in London before he would fly to Frankfurt to join his new company. No one but Ben and Josh regretted that his stay would be so short; and they made the most of the time by staying with him at the hotel.

Nicola had scarcely needed that observation of her ex husband's appalling behaviour to be sure that the discreet procedures of their divorce had been brought on entirely by the strength of Jamie‘s anger, rather than by James‘ conscience.

Her ex husband had never violently cared for her reputation, and he would have dragged his family through the mud without batting an eyelid. Jamie must have made him feel that his flight was rendered necessary; and he was not the man to resist an opportunity to escape responsibility.


	27. Tricky Nicky

The next day at DoSAC, as Nicola was finishing details with Terri and Jamie on further communication around her private life, Terri said:

“Jamie, you never gave _us_ an account of just how you managed to have James agree on how things were settled. Can you not gives us detail how it was managed?”

“Please Terri,” replied Nicola; “I think there cannot be too little said on the subject.”

“La! You are so strange! Aren‘t you curious Nicola?“

„If you‘re done here, Terri, why don‘t you action the next steps we agreed on“ said Nicola coldly.

  
  


When Terri had left the room, Jamie got up and gazed at her from his big eyes. She had never seen like this before, in a mood that was … not angry? Rather concerned?

„Nicola.. I‘m not to tell ye but.. fuck..

When we found out that bastard's whereabouts I made a swift appointment with a lawyer.. settled that we should be there by first thing next morning. Well, morning came, and I was very angry with that fuckwit of a lawyer.. made everything so fucking complicated.. Paperwork, eh, there is no end of it. Wasnae sure if I could make things that fast, with the broken fax machine and all, if the lawyer wouldnae accept it. But, luckily, he did and then we all set out. However, I recollected afterwards that if he _had_ prevented the signing, the divorce need not be put off, for Malc would have pressured him into it.”

“Malcolm!” repeated Nicola, in utter amazement.

“Och, yes!—he was to make sure to get James there, you know. Fuck! I oughtnae have said a word about it. He‘ll kill me. It was to stay a fucking secret!”

“If it was to be secret,” said Nicola though burning with curiosity, “say not another word on the subject. You helped us so much, you may depend upon my not pressuring no further.”

“Thank you,” said Jamie, “for if ye did, I should certainly tell ye all, and then Malc would get very very angry.” and he left to return to Number 10.

  
  


But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it was impossible not to think about it a fucking lot. Malcolm had been at the Murrays‘ divorce settlement. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people, where he had no business to be and no fuck to give about. Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her brain; but she was satisfied with none.

Those that best pleased her, as placing his conduct in the light of still wanting her, seemed most improbable. Nicola found she could not bear such suspense; and hastily she called Jamie to ask him back to request a full explanation of what had happened, if he could agree to betray Malcolm‘s beg for silence.

“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my interest must be to know how Malcolm Tucker, of all people, should have been involved in this. Pray let me know, and let me understand it. Unless of course you are too scared of him, then it is to remain in the secrecy which Malcolm seems to think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.”

“Not that I _shall_ , though,” she added to herself, as she put the phone down; “dear Jamie, if you do not tell me in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out.”

  
  



	28. Sweet Jamie

Nicola was glad to see Jamie back at DoSAC later that evening when everybody else had left.

He sat in front of her desk, intensely scrutinizing her with his huge blue eyes, before he finally smiled.

“Nicola, I had to think about yer call the entire day. I must confess myself a wee surprised. No offence, but I didnae imagine such inquiries to be necessary from _you_. If you choose to not understand me, forgive my impertinence. Nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned allowed me to act as I have done. But if ye're not only acting daft, I‘ll be more explicit.

“When Clare asked me for help, I instantly called Malc. He told me he had already found out where your bastard ex was hiding and was heading there. He'd started pressuring some wankers at Albany the instance he left you in Glasgow. He had a lot of favours to call in but I'm sure his ample collection of fucking toxic material helped to support his arguments. So for the time being all I had to do was to beat the media into silence.

Apparently there's some sleezy git who was some time ago a colleague of James, and was dismissed on some cause of disapprobation. This Mr. Young is still intimately acquainted with James; although he had moved to Bristol to start his own seedy enterprise. So Malc went to him for intelligence of James as soon as he got there. It took some time to get from him what he wanted, but you know Malc, some of his finest bollocking and our kind friend procured the wished-for direction.

Ye know, it's quite funny that Malc wasnae to be stopped to handle this in person. He went to Bristol with the resolution of hunting for James. Started suspecting he felt fuckin' guilty that he had pressured you to not divorce him before the election.

He went all William Wallace, calling it his duty to step forward and endeavour to remedy a fuck up brought on by himself. If he _had another_ motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him."

Jamie scanned her reactions again, but Nicola was simply flabbergasted. Jamie's face turned to a severe look, his demeanour suddenly completely devoid of his usual upbeat energy.

"Nicola, I‘ve never heard Malc apologise for anything, ever, not even fuck ups that were insdisputable entirely his. Usually that makes him only angrier. But this shitty business he attributed entirely to his mistaken pride on behalf of the party, and to get involved as a person.

He saw James, and his first object was to persuade him to return and talk to police, offering his assistance to control the media as far as possible. But he found the twat absolutely resolved on remaining in Bristol. He cared for none of his past; he would not hear of returning to London.

Malc asked him why he hadnae talked to you, cause even though your marriage was at an end, you would have stood up for him, and his situation must have been benefited by your status. James confessed he scarpered due to those pressing investigations at Albany. But still the bastard cherished the hope of getting away with it by simply keeping a low profile for some time. The tosser had nowhere to go and nothing to live on, and still he didn't care he'd drag everyone through the shit with him, fuck him.

So Malc decided to secure and expedite a discrete divorce, even if the twat had no interest in that.

I arrived in Bristol on Sunday, and then _I_ saw him too. I felt provoked to cause some serious bodily harm but for the sake of yer bairns did nothing to disfigure him.

It was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, I called you with the details. But Malcolm was very obstinate. I fancy that obstinacy is the real defect of his character. He has been accused of many faults by many people at different times, but _this_ is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself; though of course I would have settled the whole sooner or later too. But I was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of full use, was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of it.

So yer call today gave me the opportunity to get rid of those fucking borrowed feathers, and give the praise where it's due. Malc is a secretive old fuck. He hardly ever mentioned yer name. But that's just how he is.

The reason why all this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have told ye. As Malc saw it, it was owing to him, to his reserve and political schemes, that your marriage had been upheld, and consequently that James‘ actions were still connected to your personal reputation. Perhaps there was some truth in _this_ ; though I doubt whether _his_ reserve, or _anybody’s_ reserve, can be answerable for the behaviour of that scum.

When all this was resolved on, we returned to London, and all financial agreements received the last finish.

Now I've told you everything. You tell me it's a huge suprise to you, but I hope not a painful one. I wouldnae've told you about yer ex husband _‘_ _s_ appalling behaviour, if I didnae think you fully realise what a piece of shit he is.

So sorry if I'm presuming, but don't punish me so far as to exclude me from your wedding. I'll be Clare's plus one."


	29. This may be a little painful

When Jamie had left, Nicola was searching for her rescue remedy in a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether hope and pleasure or embarassement and pain bore the greatest share.

Her vague and unsettled suspicions of what Malcolm might have done to help her family were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true! She had not dared to believe it because it was an exertion of goodness too great to be probable for Malcolm Tucker, and at the same time dreaded to be true for the shame it involved.

So he had followed James purposely, he had taken on himself all the trouble and use of his power to do it, dealing with people in the financial sector whom he must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe, a man whom he must hate. He had done all this for their party. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

She scolded herself for being naive. It was not to be done to attribute his actions to herself. This was Malcolm Tucker, for christ‘s sake, ruthless and fierce and bitter, and she would be wrong to believe a short-lived desire to sleep with her - a woman who had refused him in so many words – to be the reason he had been dealing with her wreckage of a marriage.

He had done much. She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, even if it asked an extraordinary stretch of belief. It was possible, though not fucking likely, that Malcolm could feel he had been wrong.

He had power, and he had the means of exercising it; and though she would not place herself as his favourite MP, she could, perhaps, believe that her being a member of government might assist his endeavours in a cause where her reputation must be materially concerned.

It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that her children were under obligations to a person who could never receive their thanks. She owed the restoration of her family, her character, everything, to him. She was embarrassed to remember how many times she had slagged off Malcolm in front of friends and family, regretted lots of fights she had ever had with him, remembered all the times he had driven her to the point of wanting to kill him.

She admitted to herself that she was proud of him. Proud that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get the better of himself. It was hardly enough to calm her feelings; but it made her smile a little to know the feared Dark Lord of Spin still had it in himself to be a good man.

She was even aware of a delight, stung with remorse, on finding how steadfastly Jamie had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between Malcolm and herself.

* * *

When she came home that night, she found James waiting for her in the living room, having returned the boys.

“I am afraid I disturb you, Nicky?” said he.

“You certainly do,” she replied with a faint smile; “but let‘s not go into that, shall we?”

“Let‘s not. We were always good friends; and after this we may be better friends still.”

“Are the kids in bed?”

“I‘m not sure. I made them go to their rooms at least.”

“Well it has been an awkward situation for all of us. With a behaviour like yours, you know, things are _strangely misrepresented_ in the media.”

“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Nicola hoped she had silenced him; but he soon afterwards said:

“I was surprised to see Malcolm in Manchester. I wonder what he was doing there.”

“Protecting the party as usual,” said Nicola. “But I agree, it shows how massively fucked up your actions were, to make him go there in person”

“Did you talk to the kids? I thought I understood from Jamie that you had.”

“Yes, I explained our separation, not dwelling on the details. Someone had to act the responsible parent.”

“Katie seems to hate me. I hope she will understand my behaviour some day.”

“Maybe she will; she is a good girl and has got over the most trying age.”

  
  


They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked him there to get rid of him.

She sighed and decided, for her children‘s sake, not to hurl all the abuse at him that had been building up inside her for months. She only said with a weak smile:

“Come, James, we are still parents, you know. Do not let us quarrel about the past. Even if I have the sole custody­, I hope in the future we shall always manage to get to terms on what‘s best for our children.”

Nicola had never been happier to close the door of her house. She made a note to get those locks changed first thing in the morning.


	30. To DoSAC!

„They are coming over to DoSAC“ Glenn said. „Who is?“ asked Ollie.

„Malcolm and Jamie. Is it gang bollocking time again?“

Nicola decided she had to sit down. „I guess they want to talk about tomorrow‘s press thing“ she said with an unsteady voice she hoped no one would notice.

„Who‘s Jamie?“ asked Robyn.

„He‘s a terrible person. Malcolm‘s worse half. Always swearing“ said Terri. „Don‘t make him angry, he‘ll shout abuse at you.“

“La!” replied Robyn, “that man that used to be with him before. I think he fancies me“

„Yes, that‘s… What??“ said Nicola.

„ He‘s always so bloody rude to me! I mean, that's got to be the reason. Other people, when they come in here, they knock on the door and they say "hello", "good morning", "thank you" and "nice top" sometimes.“

“Well we cannot prevent him from coming here, to be sure; but I must say that I hate to have to listen to him.” said Glenn. He looked at Nicola with concern. He knew little of what had passed in the last months and therefore felt for the anxiousness which must attend her, in seeing Malcolm almost for the first time after the scandal had hit the tabloids.

Everyone were uncomfortable. But Nicola had sources of uneasiness which could not be suspected by her staff, who she had never had reason to rely on or trust in, let alone to relate her own change of sentiment towards Malcolm. To all, he could be only a man who had done his job to prevent the party from harm, but to her own more extensive information, he was the person to whom her whole family were indebted for being spared media hell, and towards whom she had developed a certain interest.

She had not met him since her return from Glasgow, and her astonishment at his coming to DoSAC now and voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour in Scotland.

The colour which had been driven from her face, returned for half a minute with an additional glow, and a sudden heat pooled in her lower abdomen as she remembered how he had pressed his firm body against her. She had replayed that scene quite a lot recently, usually at night, varying a little in detail, but always with an ending far more satisfying than the real one.

She allowed herself a brief moment to imagine that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken and how he would drag her into some empty office, kiss her deeply, run those beautiful hands all over her body and take her on a desk because fucking needs must when the devil drives. And fuck no, she would not resist him and she wouldn‘t give a fuck if anyone were to know.

But she called herself to order “Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early enough for expectation.”

She sat down at the concerence table with Glenn and Terri, striving to be composed, and without daring to lift up her eyes. On the gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary arousal.

She had ventured only one glance at Malcolm. He looked angry, thin and tired, just as usual; just as he had always been used to look in Westminster, not as she had seen him in Scotland. But it was expected that he could not in the presence of others be as he was with her alone, he was always on duty when politicians and media were concerned, always on guard for fear of some fuck up. It was a little painful to experience, but an entirely probable conjecture.

Malcolm, after inquiring of her how her children did, a question which she could not answer without confusion, said scarcely anything. He left the details to be briefed by Jamie. He was not seated by her; perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but it had not been so in Liverpool or in Glasgow. But now several minutes elapsed without bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often found him looking at Glenn as at herself, and frequently on no object but his blackberry. She was disappointed, and angry with herself for being so.

“Could I expect it to be otherwise!” said she. “Yet why did he bother to come over then”

She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to him she had hardly courage to speak.

Nicola, who knew this to be levelled at Malcolm, was in such mixture of acute desire, shame and guilt, that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done before; and she asked Jamie whether he meant to stay in London before returning to Scotland. A few weeks, he believed, grinning at her madly with a little wink. She hoped that meant that future happiness would compensate Clare and Jamie for the time they had spend separated against their own will.

“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is to resign and fuck off right after the election and never more to be in company of the plotting and scheming bastards in Westminster. Their society can afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either politicians or newspeople ever again, and that will still be too fucking early!”

  
  


As soon as they were gone, Nicola walked up to the rooftop terrace for some air and to recover her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects that must deaden them more. Malcolm’s behaviour astonished and vexed her.

“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” she thought “did he come at all?”

She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.

“He could be still sharp and funny to Glenn and Ollie, and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him.”

Her resolution was just for a short time kept as Clare called her.

“I have run into Jamie at Number Ten just now, and would you believe it, we talked,” said she “and now that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again to meet him. I am glad that at your policy launch it will be publicly seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance.”

“Yes, very indifferent indeed,” said Nicola, laughingly. “Oh, Clare, take care.”

“My dear Nicola, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger again?”

“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.”

* * *

The next evening brought her policy launch at DoSAC; and nearly all media outlets and quite a lot of MPs were assembled. Jamie and Malcolm were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality were in very good time.

It went surprisingly well. Nicola focused on the policy details of having senior citizens giving cooking lessons and helping with school lunches, having diligently prepared for all possible questions on the topic and rehearsed a lot polite variations of „no comment on personal matters“. She had looked more confident and well balanced than anybody remembered one of her public appearances.

At the following reception there was a flying buffet prepared by some of the senior participants beaming with pride and joy. When everyone setteld at one of the bar tables, Nicola eagerly watched to see whether Jamie would take the place, which, in all the past informal get-togethers, had belonged to him, by Clare‘s side. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate; but Clare happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was decided. He placed himself firmly by her side.

Nicola, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards Malcolm. He bore it with calm indifference, and she would was certain that Jamie had received his sanction to be happy.

His gentle behaviour towards Clare showed his admiration of her, which was more guarded than formerly, as it was still an official function, but she watched them flirt gingerly and was happy for them.

It lightened her mood considerably to watch their obvious attraction to each other unfold again. She was in no cheerful humour, she felt tense and anxious just for Malcolm‘s presence. Malcolm was almost as far from her as the room could divide them. He was on one side of Terri. She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was their manner whenever they did.

She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance.

“If he does not come to me tonight,” said she to herself, “I shall give him up for ever.”

Malcolm had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough for neither the polite small talk nor the usual gossip; and then was enraged against herself for being so silly of ruining a very successful evening by her useless ruminations.

“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his proposal? Is there one among the sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings!”

She was a little revived, however, by his passing her at the bar and she seized the opportunity of saying:

“How is your sister?”

“Ach, she‘s fine, we‘ll meet again at Christmas.”

“And your niece?”

“The lassie‘s stilla menace.”

She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on someone approaching Nicola again, he walked away.

She was then hoping to be joined by him again, when all her views were overthrown by seeing him fall a victim to Dan Miller creeping up on him and being wheedled by some party member for the rest of the evening. She now lost every expectation of pleasure. They were confined for the evening at different tables, and she had nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the room, as to make him seem as distracted as herself.

  
  


When she left, she was joined by Clare who congratulated her on the success of the evening. “It has been a very agreeable event,” she said. “You were amazing, Nicola, and the guests were so well selected, so agreeable for once. I hope we may often have events like that.”

Nicola smiled.

“Nicola, don‘t. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy Jamie‘s conversation as an entertaining and actually sensible young man, without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally pleasing, than any other man.”

“Clare Ballantine,” said Nicola, “do you even listen to yourself? You are talking about Jamie MacDonald! Sweetness of address and desire to be generally pleasing? Jesus Christ, Clare, you will not let me smile, and are provoking me to it every moment.”

“How hard it is in some cases to be believed!”

“And how impossible in others!”

“But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?”

“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. If you persist in indifference, that‘s fine. But let me say that despite his rough manners I believe Jamie to be the most honest man I have ever met and that is one of the most important qualities in someone. What you see is what you get and believe me, I don't think you could find anyone less scheming in the whole of Westminster. But then, I have no right to teach anybody anything about love and attraction"


	31. The PM is still a Nutter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in London, all the creeps and bootlickers return to the story.
> 
> Oh dear.

One morning, a couple of days after the successful policy launch the team were sitting together in the DoSAC conference room, when their attention was suddenly drawn by the sound of a stampede coming up the super ministry. It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, no one had made an appointment with them. As it was certain, however, that somebody was coming, Terri instantly prevailed on Robyn to avoid the confinement of such an intrusion, and walked away with her.

They both set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown open and their visitor entered. It was the Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

They were of course all surprised; but their astonishment was beyond their expectation. He entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no other reply to Nicola‘s salutation than a slight inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word.

Glenn, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such high importance, received Tom with the utmost politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, the PM said very stiffly to Nicola,

“I hope you are well, Nicola. That, I suppose, are your aides.”

Nicola replied very concisely that they were.

“Nicola, there seems to be a prettyish kind of an office of yours. I should be glad to talk to you in it, if you will favour me with your company.”

Nicola obeyed, and invited Tom into her own office. He sat down and she was determined to make no effort for conversation with a someone who was now more than usually insolent and disagreeable.

Tom began in the following manner: “You can be at no loss, Nicola, to understand the reason of my visit hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come.”

Nicola looked with unaffected astonishment. “Indeed, you are mistaken, Tom. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here.”

“Nicola,” replied the PM, in an angry tone, “you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere _you_ may choose to be, you shall not find _me_ so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only you had been divorced in an expedited procedure, but that you, that the right Honorable Nicola Murray, Secretary of State at the Department of Social Affairs and Citizenship, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my Director of Communications, my right hand, Malcolm Tucker. Though I _know_ it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”

“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Nicola, colouring with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming over. What could do you propose by it?”

“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”

“Your coming to DoSAC, to see me and my team,” said Nicola coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such rumours are in existence.”

“If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of them? Have they not been industriously circulated by yourself?”

“I never heard anything about them.”

“And can you likewise declare, that there is no _foundation_ for it?”

“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with you, Prime Minister. _You_ may ask questions which _I_ shall not choose to answer.”

“This is not to be borne. Nicola, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, have you, well, did you have any intimate connection?”

“The Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland has declared it to be impossible.”

“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his brilliant mind. But _your_ arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his party. You may have drawn him in.”

“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”

“Nicola, I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest friend he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”

“But you are not entitled to know _mine;_ nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit.”

“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Now what have you to say? Do you pay no regard to the wishes of the electorate? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy?”

“Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my having a relationship with Malcolm, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that you or any other party member disapprove. Why is not Malcolm to make his own choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”

“Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Nicola, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by us, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone in Westminster. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned without that scandal”

“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Nicola. “But the partner of Malcolm must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”

“Is this your gratitude for my making you a minister of the crown? Is nothing due to me on that score? You are to understand, Nicola, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”

“ _That_ will make your situation at present more pitiable, Tom; but it will have no effect on _me_.”

“Tell me once for all, are you having an affair with him?”

“I am not.”

Tom seemed pleased.

“And will you promise me, never to enter into such an affair?”

“I will make no promise of the kind.”

“Nicola I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find you more reasonable. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require.”

“And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be bullied into anything so wholly unreasonable, least of all by you Tom. Whatever my flaws may be,” said Nicola, “if Malcolm does no longer object to them, they can be nothing to _you_. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be pressured by you. How far Malcolm might approve of your interference in _his_ affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject.”

“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the objections I have already urged, I have still another to add.“

“You can _now_ have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered. “You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg you to return Number 10.”

“You are then resolved to have him?”

“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved not to be pushed around any longer. I will act in the manner which will constitute my happiness, without reference to _you_ , or the party or the media.”

“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in the opinion of the party, and make him the laughing stock of the public.”

“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Nicola, “have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either would be violated by my sleeping with Malcolm. And with regard to the resentment of the party, or the lack of understanding of the general public: they can all just fuck off.“

“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Nicola, that your ambition will ever be gratified again in my cabinet. I came to try you. I hoped to find you reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point.”

„Oh, just fuck off, Tom, you pompous git“.

* * *

The welter of emotions which this extraordinary visit threw Nicola into could not be easily overcome; nor could she, for many hours, learn to think of it less than incessantly. The Prime Minister, it appeared, had actually come over from Number 10 first thing in the morning (his morning, lazy shit), for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed affair with Malcolm.

It was a rational scheme, to be sure! But from whom the rumours could originate, Nicola was at a loss to imagine; till she recollected that _his_ being the close friend of Jamie, and _her_ being the friend of Clare, was enough, at a time when seeing one relationship forming would suffice to have the telltales gossip.

Obviously she had not managed herself to forget that the relationship of Clare and Jamie might bring them more frequently together.

In revolving Tom’s expressions, however, she could not help feeling anxious concerning the possible consequence of his persisting in this interference. He could not blackmail her into submission since she was resolved to step down from government, but also because she‘d stubbornly refuse to let anyone interfere with her private affairs ever again. The shit she'd had to put up with for the last four years just for political reason! The pain she could have spared her family if she had told James to fuck off then!

But from what Tom had said of his resolution to prevent their affaur, it occurred to Nicola that he would possibly try a smilar approach on his director of communications, risky as this might be with Malcolm Tucker, and how he would describe the evils attached to a connection with her, she dared not think, or else she would not be able to resist slapping the PM in cabinet like he fucking deserved.

She knew not his exact opinion of his PM, or his dependence on his judgement, since she had only joined government in Tom‘s cabinet. It was difficult to assess Malcolm‘s opinion on anyone really, since he would call each and any politician useless wankers, cunts, twats, lazy shites to their face and behind their back. Tom was no exception to that.

But it was still possible that he thought much higher of the PM than _she_ could do; and it was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a connection with Nicola on a personal and on a political level, Tom would make use of Malcolm‘s Achilles heel, his pride and his superiority complex.

He would probably feel that the arguments, which to Nicola had appeared weak and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.

If he had been wavering before as to what he should do, which had sometime had seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so powerful a party member might settle every doubt, and determine him at staying as unattached and manipulative as ever. In that case he would return no more.

“If, therefore, he does not find any excuse for meeting me one-on-one within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand it. I shall then give up every expectation, every wish for his affection and try to refrain from every fantasy I ever had about him, however hard that will be. If he is satisfied to look back only with regret, while he might have won my affection and complete surrender, I shall soon cease to regret him at all.”

The curiosity of the rest of the team on what had brought the PM to DoSAC was very great; but after Nicola firmly stated the meeting had been strictly confidential and she would not answer any question they finally gave up, though there was a lot of gossip in the pantry and they did not spare Nicola from much teasing on the subject.


	32. Dan Miller is still a prick!

The next morning, as she was going downstairs, she was met by Katie, who called her over to the kitchen table where she sat with her laptop.

“Mum,” said she, “I was going to look for you; you have to read this.”

Nicola went over and had a short look on the screen. She had expected to see something that Katie was interested in but instead she was looking at the Mail‘s website opened on the worst column ever invented: „The Talk of Westminster“. It usually boasted a mixture of crude rumours, malicious gossip and downright slander. It was attributed to a pseudonym but she had long suspected it to be used by Dan Miller to push his own agenda. It‘s whole style basically had creepy-crawly asshamster written all over it.

Naturally Nicola had a very bad feeling. She anticipated some new shit had hit the fan. „Katie, I can‘t read this without my reading glasses. Could you tell me what this is about?“

„Mum, sorry to bother you, but since Dad.. you know, since then I always check the news sites for your name. It‘s been very calm recently but I just found this column with some shitty rumours about you. I thought you ought to be prepared before you go to work“

Katie looked at her quizzically. „Should I read this to you? Basically the entire column suggests you're having an affair. I know it‘s bullshit, like, when would you even find the time for that, but still..“

The colour now rushed into Nicola’s cheeks when she realised what the rumours would concern.

“Mum, no need to look guilty. We‘ve learned a lot about the media since you joined the government, especially this summer.“

„It‘s Dan Miller. I knew he‘s writing this column to fuck with people, I just never thought he would go that far.“

“Bastard! Ok, I‘ll skip straight to the part concerning you.

‘ _Rumour has it that the very special relationship The Right Honorable Clare Ballentine holds with Number Ten‘s Press Office Hot Scot is only second to the outstandingly close relationship recently divorced Secretary of State Nicola Murray has formed to the heart of government, of which we have been advertised by the same authority. A little bird tells me the gentleman in question is blessed, in a peculiar way, with much power, a quick wit and dark humour nicely rounded up by an enticing body and a huge... brain. Inspite of of all these temptations, let me warn Nicola Murray what evils she might experience if she relies on this gentleman’s proposals and promises.‘_

Yada yada yada… _‘We have reason to imagine that his boss, Prime Minister Tom Davis, does not look on the match of his Spin Doctor Malcolm Tucker with a friendly eye.’_

Isn‘t that bizarre Mum? I remember you always said Malcolm only talks to people if he wants to shout at them, that he is a manipulative bastard who never eats or sleeps. He probably never looked at you in his life!”

Nicola could only force one most reluctant smile.

“Oh! yes. Pray read on.”

“‘ _No official statement was available from Downing Street, but my sources tell me the PM made it known last night what he feels on the occasion, calling it a disgraceful match. I would strongly suggest Mrs Murray to reconsider any inappropriate connection“._

Katie looked up to Nicola. „How bad is this for you, Mum?“

„I wouldn't worry Katie. I guess it‘s just another media stitch up. Politics is just a dirty game."

Nicola had never been more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to smile, when she would rather have cried.


	33. Best comunications meeting ever.

Nicola had half expected to find a letter of resignation ready to sign on her desk at DoSAC. Instead Sam called to announce that Jamie and Malcolm would be coming over right now.

The gentlemen arrived early; but before Terri had time to tell them _all_ about yesterday‘s events Jamie proposed taking their briefing elsewhere. It was agreed to. The three of them set off together, but when they reached a nice little café away from the usual haunts of Westminster, he kissed Nicola lightly on the cheeks murmuring he had to meet up with Clare.

Nicola was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and perhaps Malcolm did the same. She boldly walked inside with him, and when he returned with two coffees, the moment came for her resolution to be executed, and, while her courage was high, she immediately looked into his eyes and said:

“Malcolm, I am very sorry to impose myself on you, but I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my family. Ever since I have known it, I have been waiting for an opportunity to tell you how grateful I am. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”

“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Malcolm, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Jamie couldn‘t be trusted.”

Nicola reached for his hand.

“Malcolm, please don‘t blame Jamie. It slipped out that you had been concerned in the matter; and, you know me, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for closing this unholy business for good”. Her voice wobbled slightly, betraying her inner turmoil.

Malcolm looked at their hands lying on the table, slowly moving his thumb to very gently caress her hand before he lifted his eyes to lock gazes with her.

“If you _will_ thank me, Nicola” he replied, and his voice did not seem to be quiet as confident as she remembered “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the usual political motivations which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your _family_ owe me nothing. Much as they deserved protection I believe I thought only of _you_.”

Nicola was too much embarrassed and amazed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, “You are too gentle to fuck with me, Nicola. If your feelings are still what they were last April, for fucks sake tell me now. _My_ desires and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you and I will fuck off asap”.

Nicola, feeling Malcolm‘s unexpected awkwardness and anxiety of his situation as much as all her own familiar insecurities and doubts, now forced herself to speak.

She only managed to say „Oh Malcolm“ before words failed her. She took his hand and kissed its palm.

The expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

They kissed, without knowing it. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. His touch told her of feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.

Nicola had never imagined finally kissing Malcolm by choice would set her world on fire. A soft, tentative kiss, slowly exploring each other‘s mouth, sending waves of heat all through her body, Malcolm‘s hand in her neck burning her skin, causing the sweetest ache in her nipples and a hot desire to have him between her thighs.

When they finally broke the kiss, Nicola had trouble breathing. „Please Malc.. this is .. could we just... call in sick or something?“

He gave her a crooked smile.

„Nicola, if you try to say what I think you do.. Jamie blocked the entire morning in our respective diaries… so that would cover for us for about two more hours“.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, I guess the next chapter might finally provide some steamy content.


	34. One-on-one (1)

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that two people desperate to run their hands all over each other must be in want of a private room.

This holds especially true for two people who have been working together for some time and are for the first time experiencing the full scale of their physical attraction to each other almost painfully, being in a terrible need to escape the public scrutiny and far too much in love for a quick shag on the loo.

  
  


Acting under those pressing circumstances, Malcolm did resort to something inexcusable, something he had eviscerated dozens if not hundreds of ministers for being stupid enough to do: he booked a room.

He booked a suite at a fucking boring medium range conference hotel, large and anonymous, something he had booked for functions before and could book for a couple of days without looking suspicious.

A couple of days so it would not scream „just need it for a shag“ but also because he obviously hoped there would be more use of it than just these stolen hours.

This was not about shagging. This was just to be the appetizer, some moments to start exploring each other‘s body, enjoying the sensations, finally sharing the intimacy both of them had wanted for so long, to touch, to be touched, to put their hands to the parts where they would never be able to touch in public.

He texted her the room number and restlessly paced the room until he heard her knock. He pulled her to the little sofa and softly kissed her. The kiss soon deepened into the full-blown snogging of horny teenagers unable to keep their hands of each other.

„Nic‘la.. just take off this dress will ye? I need to feel you close“ His voice cracked. „Look, we‘ve only got like 90 minutes left and I will definitely not put our first time under any pressure. I want you so much but I want to have a full fucking romantic evening with you leading up to that... but if you don‘t take this off I will crumple your dress right now and everybody will think the fuckin‘ worst“.

Nicola nodded, smiling, her voice dropping to a sexy purr. „I see your point, Malcolm.. but you do realise you too will have to take off more than your jacket “. She put her hand on his neck, letting it slowly wander down his chest. He jumped up, tearing off his tie and frantically meddling with the buttons of his shirt.

„Nic‘la, down to your underwear, bed, now“.

  
  


They met on the bed, seconds later, down to their underwear, faces flushed, eyes locking, before he pulled her down in a close embrace and kissed her with a mixture of gentleness and wantonness that made her shiver.

The forgotten pleasure of petting. Not hunting for an orgasm. The huge relief, the sparkling joy of finally giving in to the attraction they had had to hold back for such a long time. To confirm by words and deeds how much they wanted each other. To finally taste those lips, to inhale that special scent, to kiss the luring neck, caress the collarbone, touch the firm arse, to sigh, to moan, to look at each other still trying to grasp that this was finally happening.

To be able to allow themselves to feel just how much their bodies were responding to each other, how much they wanted this, how much heat build between them, while telling each other how this had finally come about.

Nicola learnt that they were indebted for their present intimacy to the efforts of the PM who _did_ call on Malcolm in his return to Number 10, and there relate the substance of his conversation with Nicola; dwelling emphatically on her every expression. Stupid Tom had denoted her perverseness and assurance in the belief that this must assist his endeavours to obtain the promise from Malcolm which Nicola had refused to give. As it was characteristic for the PM, his efforts had not only been in vain, their effect had been exactly contrariwise.

Malcolm kissed the soft skin of Nicola‘s cleavage, murmuring how wonderful this felt and what he intended to do with her body at some point in the future before returning to her mouth and neck.

“It taught me to hope as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I know you well enough to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Tom, frankly and openly.”

Nicola coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of my _frankness_ to believe me capable of _that_. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to everyone.”

“It took me some very painful time of introspective to realise you were right. Even though your accusations concerning your ex were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”

“We‘ll better not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that day, Malcolm” said Nicola, caressing his face with her thumb as she cupped his face. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both improved I hope.” She kissed his neck, slowly moving her mouth on his tight skin, savouring his unique scent, feeling the heat under her lips, hearing Malcolm gasp, deciding this was certainly one of her favourite parts of his body. „But I am hoping for some seriously _reproachable_ conduct very soon.“

“Oh Nic‘la… as soon as fucking possible please. We‘ll have Jamie clear our diaries by his means of persuasion“ he laughed a little breathless.

„Still I blame mostly myself for what I put us through. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners during the whole of it, still is and has been for many months, incredibly painful. ‘had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You can scarcely conceive how they have tortured me, though it took some time before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice. I had always thought of myself as an honourable man, but looking back on all the instances we met, on everything you might have learned about me, how should you think anything of me than a manipulative bastard, and you had been married to one long enough”

“Darling Malcolm! I never expected my words to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”

She pulled him into her arms and ran her hand though the soft hair at the back of his neck.

They melted into another tender kiss that communicated their past longing as much as their recent happiness.

“You thought me devoid of every proper feeling. I shall never forget the look on your face, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”

“Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”


	35. One-on-one (2)

Of course Malcolm and Nicola were used to deal with tight time slots and schedules. But never before had they felt how ridiculously little time 90 minutes provided when there was so much to do and talk about.

When they reluctantly started to dress again, Malcolm asked her about his letter. “Did it soon make you think better of me? When you read it, did you actually believe me?“

She explained how its effect on her had been on her first reading, and how reading it again and again made her realise the truth of his accounts and the amount of injustice she had done him.

He pulled her to his chest and kissed her hair “I knew that what I wrote would hurt you, darling, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There were some parts I fuckin' regret now, especially the opening of it. I seem to remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”

Nicola chuckled. “The opening was virtually the only part I grudgingly enjoyed even at the first reading. It was just 100% you Malc“. She kissed the tip of his nose fondly. „If you insist I will burn it, but you will still have to write some other letter that is as much Malcolm Tucker“.

“When I wrote that letter,” replied Malcolm with a little sigh, “I believed myself fuckin' perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was just a written bollocking of sorts.“

“There is some truth to that, I agree. That is an essential part of you after all. Let‘s just acknowledge that the feelings of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now so widely different from what they were then, that we should come to terms with the past. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.” She winked at him.

He looked into her eyes with a sudden gravity “I don‘t deserve you, Nic‘la. I have been a selfish prick all my life, though I knew better in principle. As a child I was taught what was _right_ , but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in arrogance and manipulation, to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to seriously believe I knew better than anyone what was needed to be done, to think meanly of their intelligence and integrity compared with my own. Which may be right 90 percent of the time but still.. Such I was, and still would be but for you, dearest, loveliest Nicola! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

“You did believe that I would sleep with you there and then?”

“Indeed I did. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses.”

“I'm sorry. I honestly never meant to deceive you, but I had not been aware of your attention at all. How you must have hated me after _that_ evening?”

“Hate you! I was fucking angry at first, but my brains helped me to move my anger towards the proper direction.”

“I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met in Glasgow. You blamed me for coming?”

“No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise.”

“Your surprise could not be greater than _mine_ in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved nothing more than your anger, and I confess that your unexpected friendliness and sudden charm confused me to no end."

“My object was to show you, by every means in my power, that I held no grudge against you and that I hoped to obtain your forgiveness. I tried to let you see the real me, far from the wretched Westminster version of me, and to let you see how much your reproofs had changed my attitude. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe half a second after I had seen you I realised that I still wanted to be with you.”

  
  


Sadly they couldn‘t just walk out the hotel together. While waiting for Nicola in front of the café Malcolm checked his messages. Jamie was sharing good news: Malcolm was the first to know that he was engaged to Clare Ballantine MP.

Nicola was delighted. “I must ask whether you were surprised?”

“Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.”

She laughed. “That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And though he disputed the term, she found that it had been pretty much the case.

“On the day after I left you in Glasgow,” said he, “I made a confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told him how I had interfered with his personal life, and how I had come to realise that this had been absurd and impertinent and inexcusable. I asked for his foregiveness.. His surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion. I told him that I believed myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that Clare was indifferent to him; and as I could easily see he was still thinking of her, I thought they would be very happy together.”

Nicola could not help smiling at his easy manner of manipulating his friend.

“Did you speak from your own observation or merely from my information?”

“From the former. I had narrowly observed her in Glasgow; and I was convinced of her affection.”

“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to him.”

“It did. I know it‘s hard to see, but Jamie is fucking modest. Concerning his finer feelings he is ridiculously shy. But luckily he still trusts my judgement. He did get fucking angry when I had to confess that Clare had been in town some time, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was angry. But his anger dissolved into thin air when I convinced him of Clare’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me now. And when Clare called him to help you out, they got back in touch and have been ever since.“

Nicola longed to observe that she could see how Jamie was a delightful friend; so easily guided by Malcolm that his worth was invaluable; but she checked herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness of Jamie, they continued the conversation till they reached the super ministry. In the hall they parted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on wrapping this story today. Stay tuned :)


	36. One-on-one (3)

The day passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. Malcolm was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth and was dutifully bollocking his way through the departments.

Nicola, agitated and confused, rather _knew_ that she was happy than _felt_ herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment, there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt in the family when her situation became known; she was aware that no one around her here liked him, it was a _dislike_ even which not all his charme and power might do away.

  
  


When the evening function she had been asked to was cancelled she rang Clare to ask if she was available for an inpromptu dinner. Over dinner at a nice quiet Italian place she and Clare had finally time to talk.

Clare was happy to fill in the gaps of the story how she and Jamie had gotten engaged. When she had rang Jamie to ask him for help regarding Nicola, that had lead to the renewal of their friendship.

Then she had run into him two days ago and asked him for lunch but, with many expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere. But he had asked her if she would like to meet for drinks that night.

That night Jamie had been everything that was charming, his ease and cheerfulness had been every bit as agreeable as she remembered, but he professed no interest of being her lover again. „He just looked at me with those huge blue eyes and I was fucked. That‘s when I had to admit to myself I still wanted him“ Clare smiled, blushing a little. „The chemistry was still there. So I pushed it by flirting with him a little more hands-on and luckily that reminded his muscle memory and he finally kissed me. It all went like the first time we got involved, only this time we both admitted we wanted a serious relationship. He asked me to marry him the next morning, fucking romantic that he is“ Clare smiled fondly and let Nicola admire the ring. „I know most people find it hard to believe, but I am the happiest creature in the world, and I don‘t deserve that man“.

Nicola‘s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth, a delight, which words could but express. Every sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Clare. Nicola smiled at the rapidity and ease with which an affair was finally settled when left to the pair of them, that had given them so many previous months of suspense and vexation. Clare was positively glowing.

„I have not a doubt of you being happy together. You complement each other so much in thoughts and feelings and sense of humour. You are each of you so kind, so sincere and so generous that you will always be able to trust each other and to settle any minor dispute.“

„Nicola, he told me that he was totally ignorant of my stay in Glasgow!"  
  
"I suspected as much. But how did he account for it?"  
  
"It was Malcolm‘s doing. He believed in his right to interfere, for the best of the party as usual. Jamie said when he went to Scotland for the campaign he already loved me, and only the persuasion of my being indifferent by Malcolm had prevented his coming down again!"  
  
"He certainly made a mistake by relying entirely on Malcolm‘s opinion; but it is to the credit of his modesty."  
  
Nicola was pleased to find that Jamie had not commented further on Malcolm‘s means of obscuring Clare‘s stay in Glasgow from Jamie. Generous and forgiving as Clare was, that might be too much to ask from the most generous of hearts.

„I‘m so so happy, Nic. If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!"

„Funny you should say that, Clare. Some more wine?“

Then she opened her heart to Clare. Though pretense was very far from Clare’s general habits, she found it a little trying to act very surprised here after some things she had witnessed.

“You are joking, Nicola. This cannot be! Malcolm! No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible.” she said with a mock smile.

“Oh Clare. I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth.”

Clare looked at her and started to tease. “Oh, Nicola! it cannot be. I know how much you dislike him.”

“You know nothing of the matter. _That_ is all to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever remember it myself.”

Clare gave up all pretense surprise. „My dear, dear Nicola, I do congratulate you, but forgive the question—are you quite certain that you can be happy with Malcolm Tucker?”

“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world. Surely you understand, Clare?”

“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Jamie or myself more delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible that you two would ever get your shit together“ She laughed. „And do you really love him quite well enough? Oh, Nicola! do anything rather than rush into anything so shortly after your divorce.”

“Oh, yes! Believe me, I have thought about it _more_ than I ought to do, when I tell you all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, I must confess that I‘d marry him only to have amazing sex with this gorgeous man.“

“My dearest Nicola, now let‘s be serious. Let me know every thing that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him?”

“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing him in black tie.”

Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the desired effect; and she soon satisfied Clare by telling her how she had grown to love Malcolm. When she was convinced that those feelings were mutual, Clare had nothing further to wish.

“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Jamie’s friend and your partner, there can be only Jamie and yourself more dear to me. But Nicola, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what passed between you these past months. I owe all that I know of it to another, not to you.”

Nicola told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to mention Jamie; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made her equally avoid the name of Malcolm. But now she would no longer conceal from her his share in tracking down James and settling the divorce and his move to Frankfurt. All was acknowledged, and half the night spent in conversation.


	37. Another wild Jamie appears!

“Good gracious!” cried Terri as she stood at a window the next morning, “if that disagreeable Malcolm is not coming here again with awful Jamie! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting an unsuspecting journalist, or something or other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? Nicola, you must meet with him again, that he may not be in our way.”

Nicola could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet was really vexed that Terri should be always giving him such an epithet.

As soon as they entered, Jamie looked at her so expressively, and shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information; and he soon afterwards said aloud, “Terri, have you no more conference rooms hereabouts in which Nicola might join us for a little brief just now?”

“They are fully booked today, Jamie. Ollie and I are terribly busy today. I‘d advise you, and Glenn, if you want to” said Terri, “to use the roof garden.“

“It may do very well for us,” replied Jamie; “but I am sure it will be too much for the old bastard‘s heart. Won’t it, Glenn?” Glenn dearly wished to be spared any meeting with a Scottish hurricane. He owned that he had rather stay at the office. Malcolm professed a great curiosity to see the view from the roof, and Nicola silently consented. As she went to her office to get her bag, Terri followed her, saying:

“I am quite sorry, Nicola, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind it: it is all for DOSAC’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for all of us talking to him, except just now and then. So it‘s more efficient if just you deal with him, you see?”

  
  


During their brief meeting with Jamie they discussed when would be the best time to make it offical that Nicola and Malcolm were in a relationship.

Nicola reserved to herself to talk with her children first. She could not determine how they would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his charm would be enough to win them over.

After that was agreed upon, Jamie ventured to leave them by the fire escape stairs so he would not meet anyone from DoSAC.

„Just like the old days, eh, Mal?“ he grinned insanely and waved before climbing down.


	38. This is the end...

Being alone with Malcolm, Nicola’s spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted him to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How did you even begin?” said she. “I can see you going on fiercely once you started but what could set you off in the first place?”

He pulled her into his arms, softly kissing her. “I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew that I even realised.”

“My beauty you had early withstood, as my conversation or style, and my behaviour to _you_ was at least bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?” Nicola smirked, putting her arms around his hips and happily melting into his embrace.

“For the liveliness of your mind I certainly did admire you long before I knew I was attracted to you” Malcolm chuckled.

“You may as well call it impertinence. It was very little less. The fact is, that you were sick of people being scared of you, obeying every order, licking your boots. You probably never liked women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for _your_ approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike _them_. Had you not been looking for something different in a partner, you would have hated me; but really, all things considered, I begin to think your behaviour perfectly reasonable.”

“Nicola, you know perfectly well you are one of the few sane persons around Westminster, and certainly one of the few politicians who are in for making a change for poeple. ”

“Sweet Malcolm! My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first called at DoSAC again, and afterwards at the policy launch? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”

“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”

“But I was embarrassed.”

“And so was I.”

“How unlikely everyone would find that, and how much your shyness endears you to me, darling. But I wonder how long you _would_ have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when you _would_ have spoken, if I had not asked you! My resolution of thanking you for your kindness had certainly great effect. ”

“It was all adding up. Tom’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to wait for any opening of yours. Tom’s intelligence had given me hope, and I was determined at once to know every thing.”

“Tom has been of infinite use, which ought to make him happy, for he loves to be of use. Shall you ever have courage to announce to the PM what is to befall gim?”

“You know I love kicking his balls, Nicola. If you will give me a minute, it shall be done directly.”

“And if I had not to do a call myself, I might sit by you and admire your communication skills, as another MP once did. But I have children, who must not be longer neglected.”

From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Malcolm had been over-rated, Nicola had not yet informed her children; but now, having _that_ to communicate which she knew would be quite confusing for them, she called first Katie.

“Um, Katie, you remember that column from the mail? That did gossip about something that didn‘t exist then, but, um, _now_ I am the happiest creature in the world. I‘ll talk to all of you you tonight. Malcolm sends his regards.”

Malcolm’s call to the PM was in a different style; and still different from either was the e-mail that Ollie Reeder sent to Dan Miller a couple of days later in reply to his last:

“Danster,  
“I must trouble you once more. Nicola is in a relationship with Malcolm after all. Console Tom as well as you can. But, if I were you, I would stand by Malcolm. He has more to give.

“Yours sincerely, etc.”

Dan Miller’s congratulations to Malcolm were all that were barmy and insincere, and he even crept up on Nicola in parliament to express his delight, and repeat all his former professions of regard. Nicola was not deceived, but she still could not help giving a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.

The joy which Sam Cassidy expressed on receiving similar information, was warm and sincere. A long personal email to Nicola was insufficient to contain all her delight.

Getting her children to know Malcolm was a peculiar matter. As much as Malcolm was a sincere pleasure to Nicola, through in the course of their meetings she sometimes admitted to herself the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Malcolm exposed to all the scepticism and interrogations of her children. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness.

James’s vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater tax on his forbearance; and though James was rarely present, whenever they had to speak it was a pain in the ass for Malcolm.

Nicola did all she could to shield him and was ever anxious to find some time for just the two of them, and to carefully manage the amount of activities with her family. Though the stress of all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be settled to all the comfort of an established and accepted relationship.

Jamie and Clare remained in London only some months. The poisonous gossip of Westminster was neither desirable for _his_ vile temper, or _her_ commitment to politics. They moved to Glasgow and found their happiness within the Scottish Party.

A year later Nicola, Ella and Malcolm followed, after Ben and Josh had moved to stay with James in Frankfurt and Katie had gained a place at St. Andrews.

With the MacDonalds, they were always on the most intimate terms. Malcolm, as well as Nicola, really loved them; and there remain some very sexy stories to tell about that, another time.


End file.
